Rumble on the High Plains
by Ballerina.Embers
Summary: After making the selfless choice out of the three, Sparrow has taken on a new attire. A recent discovery will give her a reason to keep living once again, and with the help of a friend, she might find more then just a reason. Suggestive Garth/FemSparrow.
1. Chapter 1

Please inform me of any particular "plot holes" you may find. I know this is just a fanfic but I like my stories to be accurate, and I don't want people to get confused in any way, really. Sorry if you don't like it, but whatever floats your boat. Also, this will have a sense of "love-triangle" between Sparrow and the only other attractive male characters in the game, Garth and Reaver.

I don't particularly like Reaver, but I think that many people who write fan fiction of him tend to make him out of character. Which seriously pisses me off. =_= Garth has his own problems. Have you found a good romance story featuring him as a love interest? I think not. I read one good one, but before anything could happen—plot twist—Garth kills her believe she's a Spire guard.

… To that particular author, if you're reading this, I have a deep despise for you. _

Enough of this, though. All current characters are owned by Lion Head. I own nothing but the idea of a story.

**Chapter One**

Sacrifices Were Made

Well, that's the end of the story, isn't it?

Poor little "Sparrow" is left with nothing but the haunting memories of her past and the clothes on her back that conceal the deep scars, left there for reminders of those specific memories.

The scar on her chest would remain forever, to keep that chapter in her life memorable. So she can remember the sight of her dead sister, the sound of Lucien's voice when he stated his apologies. That look in his eye, as our little Sparrow stared into the gun's barrel, terrified and above all traumatized. That little scar marked that particular unfortunate night.

Though, upon leaving Oakfield, she couldn't help but wonder in the end if it was all for the best. Sure, Lucien killed thousands to remake the Spire… but sacrifices were made for a better tomorrow. Then again, Sparrow didn't think kindly to the thought of obeying such a man. In the end, maybe he finally met Helena and Amelia… though with his actions, it's quite doubtful. So many people suffered during the last ten years. So much pain on one person shoulders, so much events. Despite her age, she felt her life was… shorter than it really was.

Well, with the people who once died now roaming about in Albion once more, what was left for little Sparrow…? She didn't have a family left, no wealth at all… Her heart swelled with pain, just as her eyes swelled with hot water. That's right. Her small family that she had, and her little dog as well… They were all dead. How can Reaver live like this? How could he trade a village for his own immortality, especially his wife…

Speaking of "Hero's," wonder how Hammer will adapt to such a dramatic change in life style… Surely Garth is glad to be home… No doubt Reaver is prancing about, trying to snuff out all that amuses and interests him. Strange… Everyone seemed to have a destination, but poor… little… Sparrow.

Where would Sparrow go, with no home to really call "home"? Sure, she could start over. Sparrow could seduce some rich wealthy fool, have him propose and she could settle in his home, but there was a problem… The pain in her chest, it feels like she was taking a third shot from Lucien's pistol. No, it hurt far worse than that, and it was… For when your heart is bleeding with no sign of stopping, you almost wish something could put you out of your agony.

That pain and agony would change into misery and hate…

Sparrow left Oakfield that day, not uttering one word to a soul as she walked an aimless path. What was there left to do? She saw no interest in buying Lucien's castle… She didn't want to go inside. The memories were already fresh in her mind, thanks to her dreams. Besides, she didn't have the money. She didn't have the money to buy any wealthy home anywhere… She didn't want to buy anyone's property. Not even her own property, which her husband and child used to live in.

Drinking was always an option, but she never quite had a taste for it. Eating? No, she didn't know why, but food seemed disgusting to her right now… Never quite one for whores either. It should be between the one you love with all your heart.

That brought a sore ache to her chest as she walked on. She couldn't believe her family was really dead… yet at the same time, hearing it from that devil himself… As if he didn't kill enough people, his hand shot the furry creature that was her companion, through thick and thin. His hands, they destroyed everything they touched… or maybe not. If she could get there before it began to rot, maybe she could burry her old friend's body. A proper burial.

It was that thought that made the sickness inside of her boil over. Little Sparrow fell to her knees, crying into her hands uncontrollably. She was alone in the world. Albion held so much gratitude towards her; yet reviving those who died in the making of the Spire had cost her the option of reviving her family… Her small family, and her companion as well.

"Why?" She thought to herself as she wept. "Why try living? What is there to live for?"

The one reason she got up and walked on, was the fact that she was a hero… even thought she hated being what she was. She didn't know where she belonged. She wanted to go home, but no one was home. There was no place to go to dry her eyes. Everyone she's ever loved… is gone.

She was a hero. The blood ran through her veins. It roared in her ears, and trembled within every fiber of her being. The only way she could die now, is if someone fought her bravely and one. That's the way for warriors, that's the way for Hero's…

As hours turned into days, she came closer to her destination. Bower Lake, where her last closest friend had died. He should get a proper funeral, for everything he's done. Sometimes, little Sparrow ran. She ran in hopes she'd get there before any maggots or monsters did, but soon her legs gave in, and she'd be forced do sleep where she fell… because even If she did have the money for an inn, she wouldn't sleep there anyhow. No, no, she didn't want anyone else to wake up to her sobs and cries. Her pillow would be just as wet as her cheeks by the time morning would come.

She had a lot of time to think as well. For instance; Garth… Would he really come about to seeing her? It was doubtful, because obviously, he wouldn't know where to find her. If she didn't know where she was going, neither would anyone else… except maybe Theresa… but our Sparrow had a strong feeling that no one would be getting visits from her for quite a long while. That would mean, no one would be visiting the little Sparrow for quite a while.

It was so difficult to fight, let alone hold a reason to. When bandits or hobbes or anything of evil nature came about, she was surprised and ambushed… but disregarding all the pain their guns and swords gave her, she did prevail victorious, before walking alone.

Fail. All attempts of "flourishing" fail. Failure wasn't a good friend of hers. She tried to recreate that which Lucien took away from her in the beginning. A family… One middle-classed man, who will remain unnamed, and a little girl who was so young and naïve… So innocent and ready to venture forth into the word, and eager to be like her mother, a hero…

Where did it all begin? That's just what she was asking herself. She knew very well that Lucien, if any luck at all, would remain as a stranger… but no. It began with a music box. No, it began with Rose and her wish to live in the castle. Not only that, but that trader who sturred a crowd with the words "magic." Sparrow remembered quite well.

"There's no such thing as magic."

"We live in grim times indeed, if the young does not believe in magic. Most children your age would believe in it."

Sure, Theresa's eyes were bad, but ignoring that… maybe she knew all along. We should've just used those five gold pieces for food… If only we had done that instead, because it would've been better than just taking that box and getting Lucien's attention. Of all the people in Bowerstone Old Town, it had to be two beggars. It was Theresa who started it, she was the one who planted that seed in Rose's head.

That fateful night… The guards, if they knew what they were doing, they would've kept "Lord Lucien" from murdering innocent lives. Garth would've done the same as well… Then again, a for some reason, something in the back of her mind told little Sparrow that it wasn't so… People say many things, and many people speak lies, and are corrupt… much like Lucien and his promise for a New Kingdom without chaos.

All those years at the Gypsy camp… All the pain she went through, and all the hate that was bottled up inside. She did so much for so many people. Yes, Sparrow's strength was propelled by her pain, and her grief became her Will… but what was to become of her hate that had been mauling over inside? It swarmed inside of her, like a raging sea storm.

Eyes of pain, haunting blue and gentle, fell upon her dog as she finally reached the odd tower at Bower Lake. He hadn't moved from where he fell, and her strong defense crumbled. Her eyes, which were reddened and stung at every attempt at glances and stares, began to burn. Her pain doubled over, as well as her stomach. The sight of the corpse in front of her made her give a silent cry and she fell to her knees, reaching out to touch the possibly diseased fur and feeling the hard body beneath the skin that had made him as solid as a rock.

He gladly gave his own life, in attempt to protect little Sparrow from certain death. He deserved more than a funeral or burial. He did so much, but what was there to give back now?

A sweat came over her as she brought her knuckles to the stone that was underneath her. She wanted him to imagine him as simply sleeping, but it was not to be. She couldn't deny wanting to hold him, but he was far too expired. If she tried, surely he'd break in two within her arms.

Trying to calm herself, she picked up his solid and hard corpse and walked down. Down, down to the beach, then back up the hill. The hill that over looked the whole entire Bower Lake, and she couldn't help but hate herself all the more half way through the grave digging. She couldn't ever think of a better place. How pathetic could one "Hero" be? Her body trembled as the sweat became worse, and she thrusted the spade deeper into the soil. Her reason for existence was gone. The day she left the Spire for good was when she received a note from "The People of Albion," and funny enough… she didn't care to read it.

Making a statue in her honor was all they could do, so it did not surprise her when there stood a statue near where her old home used to be. The home she and her sister once slept in, the only home they had before the music box… before Theresa tricked Rose into buying that evil trinket… The statue showed Sparrow standing tall and proud, but she did not give it another glance. Instead, she looked forward with eyes of pain and determination… Shunning all of Albion with a cold shoulder.

There was nothing that they could make with their bare hands that would make her happy. Not anymore…

As the hero lady the corpse down in the deep hole, she stared down from the surface, seeing his golden fur no longer shining with life brought from the sun. The sun was setting, it could not reach… This would be her friend's last day. If only he could see the blue beautiful sky once more… if only he could see the dazzling sunset that made the lake glitter with gems of all sorts of warm colors…

Sparrow almost forgot something.

Reaching in her small bag, she brought out a rubber ball. It was old, and worn out, but still quite good and capable of bouncing. She let the ball roll out of her hand and fall into the grave. He loved that ball almost as much as he loved the one he was loyal to. Another pang, and she bit her inner cheeks.

She had to stop crying… At least until the burial was complete. She'd never get it done if she was blubbering like a girl the entire time. Sniffling to keep everything in, she brought the spade into the loose dirt and cringed as it showered on the faithful dog. Damn, she felt so horrible for doing this… If only he was playing dead, but his stiff body made it obvious that he was not going to return to her. Ever.

A suddenly in hale of breath made her unsteady for a moment as she planted a thick stick-like-branch to mark the grave. It was a pre-cry type of breath that was so sudden it startled herself. Taking out the collar she placed on him the moment she found it—the minute he found it—she looked at the grave and found that this would be as good as it could ever get. This was the best she could do.

Tying it in a knot, she prayed that it wouldn't be going anywhere, forever… because she probably wouldn't be around to keep someone from stealing it. Warm tears ripped through her dry eyes again as the pain stabbed at her heart, piercing her… like a bullet. That was what haunted her; the sound of Lucien's bullets. The sound of a gunshot would forever remind her of him, even though he clearly left his mark… Not just once, but twice.

It was Theresa's fault. That's all that could be said. It was too late now, though. She'd never go back to that Spire. She didn't want to. What would that hag do with the Spire anyway? Sure, she could call it home, but it was useless now.

Regardless, Theresa really was the one who pushed Lucien. "The fortune-teller? I merely listened." She tipped him off, some how. Maybe not at the time, but maybe during Sparrow's childhood… Remembering the sight of her from when Sparrow was young, to when Sparrow was now, she realized that witch had not aged one bit. She was an enchanted woman that was for sure.

She had to think good thoughts though, and couldn't let the reality of the world bring her down… She did gain some things. Gratitude of Albion… Best friends with the strongest woman around… On good terms with Garth—even if she hated him—and had connections with the immortal and selfish Reaver…

But they're all gone. They seem to have goals and things to do. What could little Sparrow do? It's almost like everyone just left her behind.

"The world is yours to enjoy."

Sure it is… What's there to enjoy? Loneliness? Maybe for some, but Sparrow desired something more… What was this now? She was feeling… such regret… for her wish? For her choice?

Yes… She desired her family more than anything else. Rose, or her companion at least… but no. This was not to be. She had to live with it, and hope that somehow, she'd end up going to the same place as her sister, her family. Though, she didn't know. She didn't know if there even was an afterlife—and above all—she didn't know what the future had in store for her.


	2. Chapter 2

Still debating on whether or not to have Garth be the love interest. I mean, it's not because he's black or anything. He just doesn't have a lot of… fans really. I can't help but think Reaver's just a tad bit too thin for my liking, and while Garth has a lovely pack of abs. Ohh, and the blue lines are so exotic…

Good God, I'm a freak. O_o

Disclaimer: All current characters are owned by Lion Head. I own nothing but the idea of a story.

**Chapter Two**

Journey for Purpose

She didn't go back home, knowing well that it would bring back horrible things like memories. She didn't want to imagine their blood splattered on the walls like Lucien described. She wouldn't forget at all, but she still tried to repress their voices, their faces and laughter. The title of wife and mother was no longer hers.

No, instead of a home, she slept near the grave she made maybe weeks ago. When the weather proved to be threatening, she'd go inside of the "Guild". What remained of it, at least. Sure, there were not quarters or rooms that held a warm bed, but she didn't ask for a place to sleep. She only wanted some place to feel safe. Security did not come as great as it did, though. For some reason, she felt quite secure when staring at her friend's gave.

An alarm went off in her mind whenever she entered the remains of The Hero's Guild. She remembered Garth, Hammer, Reaver and Theresa. Yes, that wench as well. Dispite her unclear intentions, she couldn't help but feel close to her at least. She feared for the day that she had to burry one of them. Yes, even Reaver, ignoring the fact that he was immortal… but even for him; there should be something like a loophole. There had to be a limit to his immortality, ignoring the sacrifices.

Then again, even though she didn't have murderous intention towards him, she deeply hated that man. He was so arrogant, selfish and vain! How could someone freely give up their village, let alone their wife and lover? She hated him so much, for everything he's done… even if it had nothing to do with her.

In Sparrow's depression, her stomach remained empty. Though this, she did not notice. No, she was starving to death without realizing it, but that's because of her grief that distracted her.

When the weather proved promising, she'd go to the surface. She didn't want to completely abandon Albion, because obviously peace did not last forever, and she had to come to their aid whenever needed. She was, according to them, their True Hero of Albion, and if a villager came running screaming for her, she would fight bravely… win or lose.

Though she stared at the collar, sometimes for days, she did not hear any cries for help… Only the sound of the wind making the tree's rustle, and the wings of birds cutting through that wind, to reach a destination. All was good, for now. She just hoped that no one would bring her trouble. All she wanted was to be alone. This way, she wouldn't have trouble, from anyone.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she made believe this was where she wanted to be. Forgetting all the memories, trying to forget love. It's never too late, surely. Pretty soon, she won't remember a thing. She wasted her heart on a family that would've died no matter what she did to prevent it for their own good.

It was a way of meditating that she discovered. It kept her from crying, kept her from speaking, possibly kept her from dieing from her starvation. Yes, she slowed her breath, and mastered it just fine.

Though she didn't know if she wanted to still keep living or not. If she disappeared, she'd just be another legend. Then, she'd be forgotten, just like the bastards of Albion forgot the Hero's Guild. Or… maybe she should stay, just incase… She didn't know. Sparrow was at a dilemma with herself. All choices she's made on her own, they made her end up with nothing.

Nothing but the sword and pistol she carried. Then again, if she lost those… what else would there be to lose? If she got rid of them, then maybe… maybe…

Looking at her hands, she stared at the faint blue lines. Her Will was still within her, and even though she wanted to, it's not like she could take it off. Sparrow stood up and took out her expensive pistol. It would be a waste to just throw it into a lake, but the gunshot haunted her, even when she was the one using it.

… Yes, this gun could harm people. Why sell it? So someone else can take someone's life?

Taking out her sword as well, she looked at it, and put it to the light. It was expensive as well, but the price didn't come to her mind. What came to her is how many did she slay with this sword? Surely, she'd be going to hell for it. Might as well try to repent now, and hope for the best.

If she go rid of these, she'd be useless. Sparrow would have to keep herself from using Will, but other than that, she'd have to find a place. A place to hide from all of society… or not. If she kept them, and just remained hidden where no one could see, she'd be alone. At the same time, saving those who need it.

Placing the sword and gun back where they were, Sparrow continued to stare at the grave. No longer did a pang strike her heart, no. Nothing but a numb, dull and nervous bleeding remained.

It was then that she finally got up, and started walking to Bowerstone. Particularly, Bowerstone Market… for food. Yes, she would not survive another day without eating. She wouldn't eat her weight, though. No, her stomach would burst with the state it was in. She'd just by some fruit and simple things of that nature.

After a long walk, she arrived at the gate, where a guard happily greeted her.

"There you are!" Hah… wasn't this the same fellow who put emphasis in his letters? "The citizens were beginning to gossip about what happened to you. Have you seen our latest statue? It was made to honor you. Just right outside of your house in Bowerstone Old Town, you know."

I nodded, before stepping aside and walking straight past him. I didn't want to discuss it. I couldn't deny the fact that I regretted not picking love over sacrifice. Right now, she didn't want to feel that pang in her heart, which was beginning to rear its ugly head. She bottled it up tight and stared dead ahead, walking across the bridge. Bowerstone was beautiful. When she was living on the farm, when her family was still alive, she dreamed all day about what it would look like.

Strange… Sparrow never heard of how her parents died. Only that they never came back. So much for helping the citizens of Albion.

"Don't think that," She thought to herself. "They would've helped, if they knew…"

Just like Garth… He was a good man. He would've saved Rose, right?

She forced those thoughts out as she arrived to a stand that showered fruit and veggies, beginning to pick out what she wanted and paying the price. The woman immediately recognized me the second I came off the bridge, of course.

"You…! I know you! You're a real hero!" I looked at her and forced out a smile. My face felt so stale. Obviously because I had not used the muscles in my face since almost a month ago, It became difficult.

After an hour of being forced to hand out autographs, I was tempted to go to the tavern, Cow and Corset or whatever. Well… no harm in sleeping a night there. It might do her good… but only if there wouldn't be a crowd waiting there in the room for her to wake up.

Walking up the stares of a tavern, she came to a room she hadn't been in for such a long time. Placing her hand on the bed, she felt the texture of the blankets. Applying pressure, she found that it was soft. Strange, before, she hated how it creaked when she moved. Now, she liked it a lot more than the ground.

Sneering, she clutched the blankets tightly as she let her weapons hit the floor, and curling up on the bed… holding the pillow against her chest for comfort. Sparrow sighed and breathed in the sent of the tavern, as well as those who slept in this bed before her.

Before she slept in a comfortable warm bed, she had ate her fill of food and left the rest for later. They'd come in handy later, of course. She never wanted to eat meat pies and the likes, knowing that an animal of some kind had to be cut up.

Yes, she was the kind of person… She didn't think animal cruelty should be allowed, but she couldn't keep people from doing their job… from making money. Money was the root of corruption, but it seemed to keep things going.

Whatever made them happy, she supposed…

When she woke up that particular morning, she didn't remember where she was for a moment until she snapped up out of bed. Remaining calm, she placed her weapons back on her person and paused. Upon leaving, she looked at the bed.

The red color was strangely alluring… Yeah, it could seem scary to some, but an idea struck her. Well, not like it would change anyone's opinion. She would be known as Albion's Heroine until the end of time, or at least until everyone forgot about her… which she kind of hoped would happen.

Sparrow had an idea, which involved some aid from the nearest tailor and red dye…

Within hours, she was rid of her corset and the likes. No longer did she wear clothing of the previous. A new attire was in order, and in place of the corset was now a tight black vest. In place of her crop-top jacket, now there was a deep red hood, much like any other ranger's jacket, but quite different at the same time.

Gloves covered the once revealed skin of her hands, wrists and forearms. Stopping before the elbow, a leather belt- like restraint kept the gloves tightly in their place.

Now in place of her shorts was a black material, not at all like the fabrics in other fabrics she wore. They were decorated with brown leather accessories as well, like her gloves. A belt proved to hold many items and she was quite pleased with it. A rope was settled at her right hip…

Brown leather boots went up, past her knee and at the midpoint of her thigh and was kept by belt restraints, just like her gloves. Yes, she liked it.

Despite the odd looks from people passing her by on the street, she ignored them and walked on. There must've been something interesting to do, at least. Going on, she tried to keep herself hidden as she walked through Bowerstone, and into Rookridge. Surely, there was something there. If she couldn't find something, something would find her.

And she was right.


	3. Chapter 3

So sorry, I didn't mean to go into first person on that last chapter. It just sort of happens to me. You know, just a part of me that goes, "As if your dyslexia isn't enough, wait till you get a load of this—" And yeah. Sorry. I would edit it up I'm a lazy bastard. Forgive me, you'll have to bare with me here.

**Chapter Three**

A New Stranger

Inside of Rookridge in was a quiet man, stranger than any commoner. His eyes held a disturbing glint, just like the fancy pistol at his side. His hair was blacker than any moonless night, and his skin was pale… Sickeningly pale, thanks to his locks that were tied back into a braided tail.

His eye, the only one visible due to his black eye patch, was a rich brown color.

Although his looks were not something seen before, he attracted a moth to his flame… The barmaid. That husky blonde woman had been taking shots and glances of him all night. She did not wonder why he was there, but she wondered who he was…

… And if he was single.

He sat near the door, of course. Looking out now and then, fingering the outline of his gun. He had a sword as well, but he did not treasure it as much. His steel cutlass would not measure up to his gun, Red Dragon.

He paid no mind to the barmaid, because she'd be coming over soon enough to serve him another pint of ale. Bringing his hand over, he cupped his chin in thought as he stared into the darkness of the night. This stranger's face was long, and slightly wrinkled, but it made no difference to those who rarely see new men. Bottom-line, he was a man, if not mysterious… He could be a bad person, yes, but then again, he could be a hero. No harm in trying to find out for once self, right…?

The husky woman ran her fingers through her hair quickly, making sure to appear attractive. Then she looked down to her bossom and adjusted her corset higher, making them seem perkier. Walking over with a peer in hand, she bent over and refilled it, hoping maybe he'd eye her cleavage… He didn't. He didn't budge an inch.

Clearing her throat, this caught his attention, as he slowly looked her in the eyes. Or eye… ahem.

"If you don't mind me asking, what might your name be?"

"Connor Phair…" He simply answered, not bothering to ask her. By the looks of it, she'd be telling him, one way or another. He forced a smile with those thin pale lips of his and she smiled, showing her nasty teeth that made him want to grimace.

"Anna is the name…" She said, pausing as she set a hand on the table and leaned in forward a little again. "… You like what you see?"

He forced the smile to stop on his face, for sake of not getting slapped by some filthy bar-wench, and he resisted from looking at the mole that was almost dead center on her chest… Was that a small strand of hair growing from it?

"How about we have a few drinks together, Anna?" He said, and almost instantly she set her big bottom on a chair next to him, her jagged teeth displaying themselves as she eyed him.

"Don't mind if I do." She didn't have any other customers but him, so he'd just have to put up with her until a distraction came along. He didn't mind company, so long as she doesn't breath in his direction. Connor wasn't a neat freak particularly, but he did hate to see something so gross, like black teeth, or a woman you could easily mistake for a pig.

Anna took many more pints than Connor himself, which was quite a high number. In the double-digits right now, but this slag seemed to just keep them coming.

Sadly, this hag had kept his attention away from what he was looking for… He leaned back in his chair, making sure to keep glancing out the door, expecting for a strange being to just come into view.

He had a dream many weeks ago, of a very thin and hooded woman. Her hands and ankles were like bones, and her face never came to be visible… Only a smile that curved so mysteriously. What secrets did she know? What sort of mischief, or discreet unseen events, did this woman have in store?

"Are yew wait'n fuh somebo'ee?"

"No, not exactly." Sort of expecting someone. He crossed many waters and faced hazardous obstacles, and for what? To get hassled by a dirty little hussy?

"Yew, sir Connar, remind me of a 'Ero. She's the 'Eroine o' Albion she is. Yew know that, aye? You 'ave to know 'bout the famous Sparrah!"

Ah, so she was a loud drunk. It shouldn't be much longer--… wait—something about what she said peeked his interest. He turned to look at her, giving a grin that had been plastered on his face the whole night.

"How's about you tell me a tale of this Heroine of Albion… would ya, love?"

She giggled excitedly.

"She gits many names but we all call 'er Sparrah. She be the one who made all the people ew croaked in that there Spire come back to Albion! That was a li'l while a'go though. We don't see 'er much. Not anymore."

"Why is that?" He asked, to which the barmaid clumsily shrugged her shoulder.

"Do'n know. Last time I heard of her was 'she be lurk'n about at our 'Bowah Lake, visit'n somebo'ee's grave… but 'nough 'bout Sparrah, sir. Sir, wha 'bout lil ol' me~?" (God, this is a pain in the ASS!) He laughed and sighed as she slurred. Women were so easy sometimes. Well, some women, at least. He hoped that he might find out who the woman with the cloak was, but alas, he only knew a small 'tale' of a local hero.

Suddenly, he was forced from his seat up and the barmaid was leading the unwilling gunman up the stairs, giggling.

"Let me show ya a good time, hmmm?" Well, she never gave him a choice, did she? The man rolled his eyes as he was dragged up the stares, noticing her wobbling and unbalanced steps. At the top of the stares, something unexpected startled him—the bar maid stopped—and fell forward. He reluctantly caught her before she could bump her head. Gah, troublesome girls. They sit up too fast and suddenly they're down and out again. Good thing, though. Meant he didn't have to go to bed with some desperate floozy.

He walked up the second set of stairs, but then something ensnared his attention for one moment… It was the sound of a pistol being fired, out into the distance of Rookridge. Quickly placing the drunken slag on a bed, he quickly left his payment behind as he dashed off, the tavern now quiet with the keeper and barmaid fast asleep.

Venturing down a steep path into the dark night, he found himself stumbling at first, but quickly adjusted to the new territory. Everything was off and uneven… he'd just be cautious. It would be best that way. Everything was quite different from the land he's come from.

He was, in fact, a strange man. With is gruff beard and all. The eye patch hid only his eye, but not the long jagged scar that came down all the way to his jaw line. Sometimes thought to attract the lasses, but he liked it more when the women weren't so persistent and annoying. Quite interesting how he manages to stay married, what with that golden band on his fourth finger… That didn't stop the women, of course.

"You killed him! He owes me money, too!"

A loud gruff voice said, before another gunshot ripped through the air. Connor looked in the direction of exactly where it came from, a flash caught his attention just at the moment of the gun being fired.

Now, who might this be? He ventured quite far, so he wouldn't be surprised if it was just some more bandits having a hard time with some travelers. He wouldn't be surprised, maybe he should turn around and go back… That's when the sound of metal hitting metal came to the strange man's ear.

"When somebody asks me who I've killed today, I'm going to say… Oh, nobody you—" The voice abruptly stopped… Well, so the traveler got the best of the bandit, hm? Odd, it wasn't silenced by a gunshot. Curious…

"That's all any of you wanks say these days…" Came a soft voice, quite feminine yet strong, obviously. Oh, well! A thought occurred, before he started stumbling over himself. Rushing over, he soon turned at a bush and saw a gun barrel aimed at his face. Instantly he raised up his hands to show surrender.

The figure before him obviously wasn't a man, but he was very shocked at the sight. Yes, yes, sure she's a pretty girl, but he could've mistaken her as a red baby balverine, had Connor not get am out line of her face from the torch near by. Ohh, cheeky little devil.

"You're not a bandit…" She stated, quickly lowering her gun. Her serious tense face relaxed, and her eyes that were slit came to normal average width. "I'm sorry…"

"No harm done. Just gave me a bit of a scare, lass…" At least, seemed to be a lass, or just a very slender boy… but why would someone be dressed like that? "Um, do you know who you remind me of?"

"Erm…"

"Nevermind, he's so old. You probably never heard of him…" His arms lowered, before he realized how it sounded. Seeing the confused look on her face, he gave a whole-hearted laugh. "Not saying your old, of course—"

"Do you have something you need from me? Or are you just wanting an autograph, because I gave my last one to a child in—"

"No, no… I've just been… Are you—"

"Yes, which is why I'm asking, because if you don't have anything that needs to be taken care of, I must continue."

"Right. Connor Phair, incase you were wondering…"

The girl held no long-lasting expression, other than her blank stare. She didn't seem to stare at him for long, because soon she began to walk further up the path. He had a feeling—no—he knew this had to be the scarlet robed figure he had been told to search out. Well, curious, curious… She was a true hero, sure, but he knew not a think about her… How could he be sure this lady is what he's looking for.

"Mind if I ask, just what makes you so special, Miss Sparrow?" Connor asked as he followed behind her, quite interested as to where she was going. "Other than your… taste in fashion."

… That part was mumbled quietly.

"The way I see it, just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time…" She said, a sneer clearly on her features, even without needing to look at her face. Well, clearly it's not smart to get on her bad side. Hell hath no wrath like a woman scorn and what not. "You obviously aren't from Albion."

"Quite right… but that doesn't matter. Maybe I worded it wrong…" Connor quickly cleared his throat. "Why are you a hero, Sparrow?"

She looked over her shoulder, and in her gaze, Connor felt like a small child. A small child, that was annoying the hell out of an adult, and clearly Sparrow was being the adult… Though, her gaze didn't hold a strong glare, like the ones he got when he got from his wife—before she was his wife, really—while he was still chasing her around.

Within her hollow gaze, Connor wondered if he hit a nerve of some kind…

"I had the choice to get back something I lost, but I gave it up for the thousands of lives that died during something… horrible."

"What exactly did you give up—"

"Don't you think that's a little personal?"

"Why would it be personal?" Connor cheekily replied, but the wilderness became silent with no answer. Okay, if she was going to be stingy, he wouldn't ask anymore… "Alright… Care to answer how you magically revived thousands of people?"

"You wouldn't understand unless you knew about the Spire… The Spire is a tall tower, not too far off our coasts. Long ago, someone made a wish for a new world, and so everything started over again… That essentially is what it does, grants wishes." She sighed tiredly, as if this was something to heard way too often. Well, as long as he gets the information. "Although, after everything started over, it became The Tattered Spire. A man began construction on building it for his own wish, but in order to build it, he enslaved so many people… and he brainwashed the strong into becoming his lackeys. Before he could grant his wish, I rid the world of him."

"… and you wished for the dead to return home to family and friends. How noble of you. No wonder the people here are unusually happy."

"Yes, they've celebrated the returns. They're content now, but I can't just stay in one town and expect the rest of Albion to be just as safe, can I?"

"A hero's work is never done." Silence still came. It was clear that she had no interest in keeping a conversation with him. It was obvious that he was becoming a menace, but Connor still questioned… "… What became of the Spire?"

"It's of no use to anyone!" She said, suddenly stopping and spinning around. "If you're selfish enough to go after it, then you're just as much as a fool as any power-hungry egoist!"

"Settle down, Sparrow—" He said, though not at all threatened by her sudden words. "—Nothing wrong with wanting to be informed of things. I didn't ask where it was, did I?"

"… I've made the wish, and the Spire is in the hands of that two-timing fortune teller that started the whole mess…" Sparrow turned back away and continued on her way on the path. "Evil witch…"

"Well, love, don't need to fret about it." Well, he wasn't going to listen to her talk to herself. Connor knew not to bother women when they're mumbling. Learned it from his wife when she'd get angry and go into the kitchen, just rambling on and on. "Don't mind if I just tag along I hope. Where are you headed?"

"As far as I can go and back."

"Oh, what a surprise! So am I! Lets me friends."

Quite the strange guy, innit he? Well, foreigners and everything. Connor's definitely not from Samarkand, so you know. I imagine that Albion is something like a European/UK sort of area, while Samarkand is a mix of Asia and Africa, located maybe southeast of Albion. This guy's from neither, but where he's from is something you'll find out soon enough.

Yeah, another thing… um… Oh yeah, so you all know, I write these stories really late at night. Like, I start around ten, eight, to maybe three, sometimes four in the morning. So you have to forgive me again for any mistakes you'll find. Don't bother telling me my mistakes, because they're probably typos of some kind…

… and I'd rather be saved of the embarrassment.


	4. Chapter 4

**So I've decided, yes… This story will have Garth as the main love interest. Now why did I say 'main'? Because, well, I'm not entirely sure if he'll be the only 'interest' to Sparrow. Am I hinting something? Well, maybe. I could be, but I really don't know. I can't decide. Don't expect a solid promise from me. Forgive me once again for any spelling mistakes you might find, once again, gotta bare with me.**

**Another thing, don't expect Garth to come around for quite a while. I'm thinking that maybe chapter… … seven or afterwards. Be patient. XD I've gotten three chapters up in one day, so at the slowest rate, I'll probably be getting one chapter out every week.**

**Disclaimer and what not.**

**Chapter Four**

Spoon Full of Rum

… makes the medicine go down?

It had been quite the eventful week indeed. Little Sparrow found a new friend that stuck to her without showing signs of departure… or… Rather a stranger found her and stalked her for the remainder of the week.

She was relieved to actually bathe without him crawling on the door.

Well, it wasn't like she could threaten him to go away or something. Then again, she didn't know to see this man as a good person, or a bad person with hidden intentions. Of course, she wanted to ask him questions, but wasn't sure how to ask. Things were always either done for her, or someone walked her through it… Well, Theresa and everything… but ignoring that…

She'd ask, but of course… when she finds the right moment.

Sparrow had ventured through to Oakfield and into a tavern. Everything was peaceful. The ones who worshiped the shadows hadn't come back around for a while. She wouldn't be donating to the Temple of Light though, for sake she'd have at least a tavern to sleep in for the next few weeks and have food to keep her alive.

Though, when she woke up at the tavern early in the morning, she found herself wondering if she tried to leave him behind… would he try finding her?

Quickly getting up, she stretched and putting on her melee and ranged weapon, before suddenly running out of the room and jumping over the railing, landing on her feet on the floor. The girl ran before the bard could even pester her into giving ten gold pieces.

"Hey, where you going?" A voice asked, making her suddenly stop and look over her shoulder to see Connor sitting at a table with a bottle of some beverage…

"Oh, uh… looking for you."

"Really?" He asked, giving a forced smile just as she did upon seeing him. "Looks like you were running from a fire to me."

"No, no… No fire…"

She came over and sat down at his table across from him. He offered a bottle, to which she shook her head. Her blank expression stared down at it though, thinking to herself. The man across from her stared at the woman with a questioning look. Well, it always seemed like she was thinking about something. Either she was thinking of something, or she wasn't thinking of anything at all.

Just when he opened his mouth to say something, she spoke.

"What are you following me for?"

"Ohh, just a feeling." He said quietly, as to where Sparrow looked him dead in the eye and glared. "Not that kind of feeling… Married."

"Mm."

"Are you married, Sparrow?" He asked, not in a flirtatious way that the normal bar maid would take it as. "Just curious, is all."

"… Where'd you get that scar?"

"… Right. I see." She was a tricky one for sure. Obviously not as much of an idiot as some of the people in Albion he's found. "By the looks of your only fourth finger, you're not, but I'm assuming that by your answer, something happened—"

"But you'll never really know, will you?"

"Ah, touché. Alright, so it's a trade off…" Well, Connor didn't really want to explain how he got his scare, for the sake of him appearing as a good guy. Don't want to be miss leading. "… I might tell you later."

"I'll leave it at that then…" A minor silence came between them." How long will you be?"

Ahh, she'll wait for him to finish? So she's allowing him to follow now. He smiled.

"Won't be long. Why?"

"I'm going to… visit someone."

"Another grave?" She lowered her gaze, and quietly stood up and pushed her chair in. Alright… Maybe he blurted that out a little too soon. What did he know? She could be visiting a dead friend or something. Gah, he felt a tiny dart of gilt hit him as he looked at her face, seeing not a blank expression but a look in her eye that answered his question.

Yes, she was going to visit another grave. She thought maybe that since Hammer's father died, he'd be brought back because of the wish… but he never really went into the Spire, did he? Well, no way it could be helped now.

Connor figured he'd follow, thinking he might know the people who she's been meeting. A thought came to him finally and he couldn't help but wonder…

What happened to her that made her so… desolate?

A sigh came over the man as he got up and began to go after her. He saw her leave in one direction, but he felt like he could get lost easily in the small shallow fields of Oakfield. Of course, maybe he should give himself a tour. Or, at least scout the place out.

Meanwhile, little Sparrow ventured into Oakfield, coming to a small hill that over looked the Spire, and all it's glory. A sneer came across her features as she clutched her fist angrily. Placing her other hand of the large oak tree, she caressed the wood… but did not feel it, due to her glove.

She liked her outfit for that reason, because she couldn't feel what she touches… Only the density of what she touched. Sighing heavily, she finally looked at the oak.

Then another realization came to her.

Hammer's father was a good man. Oblivious, but he was a good man, always doing the right thing… Hammer was right, though. Sparrow was the reason why they were attacked in the cave. Had it been two monks, they would have been against nothing. Sure, she was one of the three, but maybe it could've pro-longed her father's life if Sparrow didn't even go to The Temple of Light in the first place.

Suddenly, she took some steps back and came to her knees, her hands clasping together. She almost cried, Sparrow almost covered her face to hide the tears, but the red hood did that for her. Bringing her torso to arch, she lowered her head and for the first time, she attempted to pray. It was quite weird, because really she had not idea what to say.

Then a voice came behind her.

"Paying respects to The Golden Oak, or to the Abbot?"

"I'm trying… to pay my respects to the Abbot." She stated, knowing the soft voice could only belong to a monk. Somehow, the monk must've realized my difficulty, because he said the blessing that I heard some where near ten years ago…

"As new life rises, so do we. As the seed returns to the Earth, so do we all…" A silence washed over, and little Sparrow left it at that before she stood up. Turning, the monk gave a smile. Sparrow didn't have to recognize the monk, they all were the same, but the monk seemed to recognize little Sparrow's face well. Yes, she had given The Temple of Light a great deal of service.

He simply turned and went on his way. It was expected, for they shared no previous conversations or interests. Sighing, she found comfortable in the shade of the oak. It sheltered her from the bright sun. For some reason, storm clouds never came to Oakfield. Ever. The sky was always clear and blue.

Suddenly falling back, she sat there with her elbows on her knees, feeling a small sense of security. She stared at the view for a moment, before turning her head to see a small little patch of blue flowers. She never knew what they were called, but they seemed to grow like weeds. They were everywhere.

Plucking the stem, she held it in front of her. At the farm, which she visited so recently during her time of death, she clearly recalled the white and yellow field that was right out side of her window of her room.

That chilling place she visited was so perfect… but when she went beyond the gates, the sight… it was just so horrifying. Even now, she could hear the sound of Rose's scream. Rose pleading for her little Sparrow to stay, not wanting to be alone again.

What if she stayed there? Forever? Would Lucien reign as King over a new land? What would that land be like?

While gazing at the blue flowers that hung like bells from the green stem, she wondered who was with Rose, other than mother and father… What would it be like, when she finally dies? Will she fly to the sun with strong white angelic wings? Will she run through a field of white and yellow flowers as a child? Would Sparrow's ancestors be waiting? Would it be like a big family reunion?

She smiled through a painful heartache and opened her mouth and sang. It was one of the few songs she knew well. Down by the reeds, the one Hammer sung, before she later referred to herself as Hammer.

Just as she nearly finished, a leaf came down to startle her. Well, it's almost that time of year, wasn't it? By the looks of it, all the trees were beginning to change. How could she not notice? Maybe it was the hood… she never really noticed details with it on. Maybe that's why she liked it so much.

"You'd make a great performer. You know that?" Said the voice of Connor. Sparrow sighed and took the golden leaf's stem between her thumb and index, staring at it as she twisted it into making it twirl between her fingers.

"I don't care to do such things."

"Right… Well, what's on your list of tasks to do today, lil' Sparrow." He said, before she finally stopped twirling the leaf and placed it down, away from her view to see Connor, with his bottle of whatever it was at his side. She quickly stood up, and when she did, something made Connor's eye snap wide in surprise. "Ohh, what might that be?"

Sparrow rose a brow and looked behind her, seeing the Spire. She forgot how you could see it from any coast. Her lips curled down and Sparrow glared at it through the shadow of her red hood.

"That is the Spire I told you about… It belongs to a blind hag." Sparrow looked over to Connor, who eyes suddenly grew wider. What did she say? What was he looking at her like that for? He blinked and suddenly recovered, a smile coming over him that made her feel unsure suddenly… "I told you before… it would be unwise to try and take it for your own."

"No, no… It's just, she's blind? Should she really be wondering around in such a big place?"

"She sees other worlds than this one…"

Connor finally understood who the woman in his dreams must've been. Now lay before him, was a distressed hero in red, like the blind thin woman in his dreams mentioned.

"_Do not test her powers, for they are beyond the normal hero. Will user, skilled ranger and a passionate swordsman… she is a combination of all three. That said alone, you will search for her, and you will take her away from Albion. You will find her and the object that will start the next journey."_

What the hell does that mean? What object did he have to find, and what the hell was in it for him? He wanted to ask the woman in person, but with Sparrow believing anyone who goes there has bad intentions… ehhh, it was risky.

"… How would you like to visit another land? Seeing as how this place won't fall apart if you take a deserved vacation." He said, for once smiling without forcing himself. She looked at him, slowly tilting her head. Oh, she was curious… "I promise, if you don't like it, you can come right back here without any question."

"What's the catch?"

"… There isn't a catch." She looked at him with narrow eyes. Ouch. She didn't trust him, did she? "Okay, Um… Listen, I have no means to trick you or anything…"

"Okay… I guess I could—"

"Yes! Okay, I promise you won't be disappointed—actually—I think you'll be quite surprised! It's quite bigger than Bowerstone, trust me… Oh, though my wife might have some questions. She'll wonder why I life so suddenly, why I'm bringing a lass home—oh—don't worry about paying for anything—"

He put an arm around her shoulder, as if she was some sort of drinking buddy and put the bottle to her mouth, continuing to chatter about various things. She pursed her lips, tasting rum for the first time and finding it quite strong and nasty. Sparrow didn't swallow, Avo! no. She twisted her face and rubbed her lips with the back of her hand. Nasty stuff it was.

"—I'll take care of ya—you'll love my wife, she's a good cook—"

"Where **did** you come from, Connor?"

"… Ever heard of _Snowspire_?"

**Alright, hope you enjoyed. I'd love another review. I didn't realize I had one until today, and I was quite excited to read it, even though it was small. Small reviews are fine. Whatever is good. Anything's good, anything is great, so you know. Just, do whatever you please. I'll be fine if you don't write a review… I just want to make sure someone is reading my story. =] Once again, thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Alright, so the fun stuff starts to begin! I hope you haven't lost your interest so far. I'm surprised I'm still writing this even now. Usually I just stop writing stories after the fifth one, but lets just cross our fingers and hope for the best. ^^**

**Once again, disclaims and yadda yadda yadda.**

**Chapter Five**

The Fury of Women

_There once was a story about a sparrow. A bird, but this story has personification in it, for reasons unknown. A girl sparrow married to a boy sparrow. They were happy together, but the girl sparrow didn't see herself as a pretty bird._

_The boy sparrow soon found another girl sparrow, and while his wife was at home dreading over her appearance, she killed herself…_

_The boy sparrow realized that it was him who killed her, for if he praised her at least once a day, tell her about her beauty and showered her with gifts like all his other bird friends did to their wives, maybe it wouldn't have happened._

Sparrow, the actual person, narrowed her eyes at the book. It was one of many books she found venturing Albion. What a tragic story. Made her feel a tons better… not.

Sparrow didn't have to worry about her looks, though. No, she knew she was pretty, for she's been told this various times before. Closing the book with a loud snap, Connor looked over at his friend through the doorway, questioning. Sparrow folded her arms and glared at the book in her lap, cursing it. Sparrow felt insulted, even though she knew it was just a book. Had no feelings or anything.

"… The book didn't have a happy ending." She said, explaining herself to Connor. He shrugged and smiled as he felt his rough beard. The ship they were on rocked slowly from one side to another, and the sound of feet running across a wooden surface above them stated that something would be happening soon.

"Get ready to board!" A loud voice shouted to the various people on the ship, some sailors, most just passengers. Though it was a small ship. Not many traveled to and fro. At least, not many from Snowspire traveled.

"We're _**heeeeere**_!" Connor said, feeling like he could break out into song. Sparrow groaned and put her book away, feeling her brown leather gloves were a little cold and crisper than before… "You're going to love it here."

Sparrow rolled her eyes, suddenly hating being there already.

She had no idea why she came along. Maybe it was because she wanted something new… to meet new people, see new sights and fight new enemies for once. She didn't intend to make her name known all over the world, no. She just wanted… something clean and simple. A restart, if one could word it that way.

"Maybe you could trade that book in for a better one when we go to the market today." Ohhh, so they have a market too. Maybe it will be bigger than Bowerstone's, like he said… but she kind of doubted it. Bowerstone was such a large place on its own, including the Fairfax Garden, all the way to the Bowerstone Cemetery.

"You won't need to bother trying to support yourself."

"Thank you for asking, Connor." She said suddenly, shooting a glare at him. He gave a sheepish grin as he offered her to go up the deck first, rolling his eyes as she passed him.

When she came to the deck, she looked around to see nothing but fog, and the sent of salt from the sea… but there was a strong golden glow coming from the direction that they were heading. The fog became thin, and her eyes became wide.

There were so many ships docked at the dozens of docking bays. The sound of voices came to her ear as they finally stopped, overlapping with the sound of salty sea waves. Sparrow slowly gripped her hood and pulled it back, seeing the whole wide view. Thousands of houses, and in the background, the fogged horizon seemed to fade away into white with all the tall buildings.

Colorful houses too. She wondered how many blacksmiths, tailors, stylists, taverns and bookstores were over this town. Wonder what else they could be, other than the listed stores.

"O Avo…" Sparrow said, covering her gapping mouth. "… Huge…"

"Snowspire used to be so small, once upon a time…"

"I… want to go everywhere." She said, running to the edge of the ship and looking at all the people. She didn't realize it was all that cold until she saw the men and women with their thick coats. "I want to see everything."

Connor's laugh snapped her out of her thoughts and patted her on the shoulder.

"You'll see it all after I visit my wife… Owner of a bookstore, you know. Just thought you should know."

Some buildings were made of bricks, other wood, and they were all so foreign. She felt so naïve and strange in this new place. When they got of the ship, so much overwhelmed her. The streets were so wide, and there were more than one chariot giving people rides from one place to another.

Never seen people dressed so strangely, never realized that guards of other lands wore different uniforms. Of course, she almost wondered off on Connor. Thankfully he's delt with children before, because the moment she started walking in the middle of the street he pulled her by the arm, leading her for her sake. Sparrow didn't glare at him for it, though. She would've done the same.

"You travel a lot?"

"… Quite." He said, his tone changing at the question. They managed to avoid the main streets and after what seemed like a lot of walking, Connor abruptly stopped. "Don't go anywhere… Just wait."

"Uh huh…" Sparrow said, a little absent mindedly as she looked around. She was left to wait outside of a two-story building that Connor disappeared into. "Wow…" The words escaped her pink pale lips, before a sudden loud clank tore through the air in a loud angry manner.

"_**Ohhhh**_, you decided to come back around?! How have I been for the past month?! Just fine, thanks for asking!"

Sparrow was surprised by the loud out burst and turned to the door. Clearly, looking through the window, it had many books. Inside, Connor had his hands in a surrendering motion as another woman with messy hair rose a pan. Good God, that can't be his wife, could it?!

"Really, love… deep breaths—"

"No! You take deep breaths!" She shouted, before swinging her pan again at him. Sparrow slowly came to the door, cracking it open as the woman raved. "You know what it's like to wake up and have your spouse—the one who vowed 'Till Death Do We Part'—parts with a little note!? A letter!? Maybe one day, _**you'll**_ wake up next to a letter and realize that I'm not there!"

"Lucy, please—"

"Don't you even _**start**_—…" The woman stopped suddenly and stared at the door, where Sparrow froze in fear. That woman saw her, and she was going to murder her with her pan of fury…! "--… Well, introduce me to your friend."

Connor looked over his shoulder and then back to the woman, laughing in a silly manner as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Um… Lucy—"

"Come on in, let me take a look at ya." Lucy said, opening the door and seeing Sparrow. She paused abruptly, and the Albion Heroine gave a forced smile, holding her hands behind her back. "… You brought home another woman!"

Connor's shoulders dropped and he dodged another swing from the woman's pan.

"I knew it! I knew you filthy sea dogs brought nothing but trouble! I should've listened to mother and—"

"Excuse me!" Sparrow shouted over the still fuming but silent woman. "My name is Sparrow… and I am happily married!"

"… Oh…" The woman said, frozen for a moment, before suddenly placing the pan on the cashier counter and laughing giddily. Quickly rubbing her fingers through her hair, she cleared her throat. "I'm Lucy Phair."

The woman extended her hand and gave a strong shake.

"Come in, you must be cold—" She pulled her in and closed the door behind her. Sparrow fiddled with her hands and twiddled her thumbs, a little frightened by the woman and her change of mood. "—So, where did you come from?"

"Lucy—"

"Shush, Connor. Don't speak unless you're spoken to." Those words, you would say to a child at the dinner table. Connor's head lowered. "Go on, where are you from? Are you thirsty, hungry? I have _**rum**_—" She glared at Connor. "—some meat pies—"

"No, I don't drink… and I don't eat meat."

"… Ahhh, isn't that _interesting_, Connor?"

"Yes, it is." He said, slouching as he sat down in a chair near a burning fire in a chimney. "Lucy, I need to talk to you, alone."

"Oh, I've been waiting for a month, I'm sure it can wait _**another**_ un-stated amount of time!" She picked up her pan again and walked out of the room, continuing to rant again as she walked into another room that seemed to be the kitchen. "Sure, just through caution to the wind and forget all about your responsibilities—"

"Lucy…!" Connor quickly said after he had taken off his books and ran after his wife. Sparrow was left alone in the room to twiddle her thumbs, and trying to give them privacy, she tried to ignore their argument and looked around. So, they did own a bookstore. Not that she really liked reading, but it was something to do when there was nothing to do at all.

With their words becoming a white noise, she came close to a bookshelf filled with… books. Of course. Roaming through the titles, she fell upon many interesting books. Love stories, history books, mythology books—so many interesting books—Sparrow wanted to grab one right off the shelf, but then again, the woman of the house didn't seem too happy at the moment…

Walk Away, by Grantz Fernik. Haunted by, Even Stien… Monsieur Gaston, by Gregory Bicipe`. Hmm… Jack of Blades. There was no author, but the book was quite thick, and by the looks of it the spine was wearing out. The dark red color was what allured her so much.

Lucy's voice came to Sparrow's attention when the Heroine reached out in attempt to _borrow_ it.

"Don't think you can just walk in here expecting a warm welcoming next time. You'll have to make up for the month you've been gone—"

"Alright, it's a deal. Just please calm down, love…"

Lucy had came back into the room, no longer armed with an iron pan. Her hands were on her hips, looking Sparrow over again. Sparrow quickly faced her, her hands behind her back again and felt like a little child. This humble woman was oddly familiar, but never before have they met until now.

"Well, little Sparrow from Albion, eh?" Sparrow shyly nodded, wanting to look down at her feet, but that would be rude, wouldn't it? "You're a skinny girl, you know that?"

"I could say the same to you, Lucy." Sparrow said, not quite sure if she should've said it at all. She didn't want to make it sound like an insult… Suddenly, Lucy smiled warmly and folded her arms.

"Well… I guess I can let a hero stay, so long as you don't bring trouble into my house."

"Oh, of course." Sparrow said, and Lucy quickly added…

"—and you'll be doing your part 'round the house… You've done chores before, haven't you?"

"Oh, yes. I used to live on a farm when I was younger—so—I can do anything you ask—"

"Oh, well, you won't be needing to do anything like chase chickens or anything." That brought a smile to Sparrow's face and she pursed her lips to resist a laugh. Chicken Chaser. Yes, that was another nickname of hers. "We don't have a field or anything, just books. Some are too old to be in here, though."

"I wouldn't mind reading some, if it's alright…"

"By all means, read your heart out, lil' Sparrow…" She said, before turning to glare at Connor, who only grinned. Sparrow wasn't sure if Lucy glared because of who her husband brought home, or the fact that he left without saying a proper goodbye. Lucy sighed and went upstairs, leaving Connor and Sparrow alone to chitchat.

"… Well, she's really nice when she's not angry…" Connor said, taking a seat back down next to the fireplace. Sparrow was tempted to sit down in the spare chair that was also next to the fire, but instead, she leaned against the counter in silence, her arms folded 'cross her chest. "… I'm sure your husband was just as angry when you finally came back to visit after your 'quests'."

… Sparrow glared at him for a moment, before looking down to glare at the floor. Well, Sparrow declared she wedded on her own free will. She hid her left hand from view, not wanting him to mention that she doesn't wear her wedding ring anymore… but it seemed inevitable.

"… You are widow." Well, he figured it out. That's it, so much for mysterious Sparrow.

Sparrow, who felt something stinging her eyes, had finally brought the hood back over her head and continued to fold her arms. He had no right to know. This man was a complete stranger, and he persistently pokes his nose into her business. What did he want to know next after he found out about her children? What her birth sign is? What her shoe size is? "… I'm sorry, Sparrow. I really am--…"

Sparrow brought her hands up again and pulled on her hood, wishing that it would go lower, but it only reached far enough to cover her eyes.

"… Right… I just won't mention it again, how's about that?"

Sparrow nodded in silence, releasing her hood and holding her arms. Holding herself, fearing that maybe she'd fall apart right then and there. How humiliating would that be? To cry in front of Connor like some fat blubbering girl? A whine threatened to come out from deep within her throat, but she swallowed it down and forced herself to breath.

"Never saw you without your hood off before." Connor said abruptly, looking into the fire. Sparrow peeked at him from under her cloak and saw he wasn't looking at her, which helped… a little. "Didn't think you were a blonde."

Sparrow raised a hand under her hood and twirled a strand of hair around her finger, looking at it. She forgot about her hair and her appearance… She would've cut her hair really short, but she already loved it the way it was, pulled back into a ponytail. Although, when she looked at the strands of hair around her finger, it wasn't the bright banana color that Connor's wife had. Sparrow's was a dirty blonde color… Unlike Lucy's dark brown eyes, Sparrow had deep blue eyes. She liked her appearance quite well. Sparrow didn't want to change it for anything.

Finally smiling, she remembered how much her husband liked it when she had pigtails… but she only wore it for one day, just to make him happy. Sparrow remembered her hair used to be quite long. When she leaned over her baby's crib, the little infant would pull on it. Little bit of an annoyance, but after putting it back into a pigtail, she didn't have to worry about it anymore.

Now that she thought about it, she wouldn't mind getting a hair cut again… Maybe she needed it. Then it came to her. Wonder what new styles of hair they had. Wonder what kind of clothing and armor they had here…

Thin fingers played with the red cloth under her neck, trying to stay calm. Don't want to get over excited. It'll come in time. Patience is what she needs to have. Turning around, she pulled down the book that snatched her interest and opened it, finding that there was one mistake. The author. Who was the author…? Ignoring it, she began to read with great interest.


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, another chapter. I'm surprised with myself, and now that I've done some research, I've made up my mind about the end of the story. At the beginning, I wasn't sure, but now I am. ^^ These previous chapters have been me just mapping a few things out… kind of just like messing around, but I promise it's going to be knocking off that phase for a while.**

**So, once again. Disclaimers for all characters—BUT Connor. Haha, sorry. Made him up on my own. Connor and Lucy Phair are both my original creations.**

**Chapter Six**

The Infamous Hunter

Sparrow never really pried into someone's secrets. She never asked unless there was an exchange of some sort of information going on… and she tried to keep it so she didn't have to discuss about her life. Though, secrets don't stay as secrets forever.

It was Sparrow's third day in Snowspire, and she was still reading the book featuring Jack of Blades. It interested her quite a lot. She heard of him before in Albion, but never really thought that he was known outside of Albion… but other than the books, all things were good… Other than the arguments that the Phair couples had sometimes. It was very odd, too. They would start talking about the sweetest things, and it would build to something loud and outrageous. Silly things like, "How come we haven't had children yet?" Haha, and Connor would try to avoid it somehow, and then Lucy would just go off her hinge.

Sparrow got along very well with Lucy, and while she was busy, Sparrow would look after the store with Connor, though it was no way to make money. Third day and still in the bookstore. Today, though, she was eager to leave. She wanted to leave, get away from the two lovebirds. Maybe it would give them some time alone, which obviously they needed.

So, on the fourth day, she got up quite early. The sun hadn't even began to rise and she was out the door. Red scarf around her neck and her hood up. Sure, maybe some stores weren't open now, but she could look around… and she didn't have to worry about getting lost. Anyone in Snowspire would know where Lucy's Bookstore was, right?

Suddenly perking up, she stepped into snow again, and heard it crunch softly underneath her dark brown leather boots. The streets were completely empty, and the world was her sandbox to play in. She felt something within her chest blossom in such a great sudden burst.

A chilling breeze blew her hood off, and she quickly grasped it, pulling it back down. It wasn't snowing, but it was before she came out. Well, might as well run with the wind. Turning, she ran down the snow-white street, and various thoughts came to mind.

Oh look, little Sparrow! Castle Fairfax looks beautiful during the snow!

Surprisingly enough, that would've broken down the feeling in her chest to little bits and pieces, but Sparrow didn't slow down. The feeling within her chest—inside of her heart—was still blooming with warmth. She wasn't saddened to hear Rose's voice. She was happy, because the last time she heard it was before she stepped into the heart of the Spire.

Sparrow loved the snow so much…

With her feet taking her to places she'd never seen before, she walked right past a tavern. No, she didn't need to go inside. She wanted to run as far as her legs would take her.

Her running slowed as she came to a large hill. Going to the top, she witnessed an over look of the whole town, with a dull bright glow beginning to bake the morning horizon… A small view, that proved Sparrow was looking at only one small portion. Albion seemed so small… The people here were so different, and treated her like an ordinary commoner. They didn't plead for autographs. No more questions about her relationship status…

She could've remarried, but the idea made her frightened. She already gave all of herself to a man before, but never again would she spill her secrets into someone. Never again would she open herself up and put so much into one being. All the trust and love, among other things…

Oh, and her baby… Oh, she went through so much pain just adding one person to the population of Albion. Those nine months felt pointless now…

The great warm feeling in her chest crumbled, feeling hate choke all the other feelings in her body as she slowly felt her feet begin to become a little cold… How sad she never said goodbye…

A sudden chill made goose bumps attack her entire body as a sudden and unexpected gust of wind forced her to stumble. Well, apparently the wind was taking her away from here. She began to walk along that way, not wanting to go against the wind for fear of having a cold. Wind chill was a horrible thing, so best not go against it.

The girl sniffed to keep herself from getting snot-cicles, and stopped at a building that was quite similar to the blacksmith's shop in Bowerstone Market. She slowly tilted her head, seeing a man inside stirring the coal at the small fire.

"Is there a job open?" She asked, coming in and seeing the man turn to face her. He was a little scrawny, but the funny stash on him showed he was a humble man.

It was a few hours into the day. The sun shown only in the morning, before a strong cold front came in and the clouds crowded down to Snowspire, smothering any sight of the sun, while making it seem like all life beyond Snowspire was nonexistent. Like Snowspire was a world all on it's own…

She had gathered what she wanted, and ventured out with thought of getting anything that caught her interest—what women of the modern time would call a shopping spree—and arriving back at the book store before the day ends.

Of course, when a particular man woke up today realized that little red riding hood had left, he flipped.

"Did she leave a note?!" Connor asked, still searching the house for any clue as to where she went. Lucy watched him with crossed arms, a little confused about how to feel.

"I'm not sure if I should be offended that you're worried over her, or laugh." She wanted to say, this is how it feels to be left alone on short notice… but she didn't know how to really explain her feelings. She placed a hand on her hip and glared at her husband, watching him bundle up in a coat and start heading out the door.

"Where are you going, _**hm?**_"

He was going bird hunting, but of course, if someone said that, it would sound like he was going out to kill someone… which he obviously wasn't. Instead of replying, he just left without another word and ran, questioning the first person he ran into.

As the man began to fret about in Snowspire, and little Sparrow ventured far and wide. It seemed like ages, but she came to the outskirts of Snowspire. It reminded her of Bowerstone Old Town, with little children running around, playing games… A smile crept on Sparrow's face, and she wanted to play with them as well, join their group, but no… Sadly, she wasn't there age, so it would be so weird…

Sparrow had the option of going to the Snowspire Cemetery, but didn't think it was in her place to go. Who did she know here who was already dead and buried? No one, so far. She didn't want to be around long enough to see her friend Connor die, either… Or his wife.

She soon found herself at the end of Snowspire… and the beginning of a road she never walked upon before. She walked across the bridge, passed the point of protection from Snowspire guards… She was on her own, and this she knew. She couldn't help but feel the handle of her steel pistol, expecting something strange to leap out from nowhere and attack her.

As she walked along the path, she walked by what appeared to be ruins, dusted in snow. How strange, there seemed to be a formation… It looked like it used to be some small temple, or something to that building structure.

A gust of wind, so powerful, brought her to stumble to her knees, and there in the fog, it looked to be some sort of… fortress.

Eagerly, she got up, thinking it could be another town. Oh, what new things could be here? What items for sale might there be? What kind of people would she meet?

Realizing that what she saw wasn't really a fortress, Sparrow became disappointed. What was in front of her, were huge massive doors. The doors were open, but that's not the thing that impressed her. It was the size and thickness. These doors looked to be so heavy, no one could open them. Then a thought occurred. How did they open?

As she walked closer, a feeling of dread and panic tugged at her heart as she walked through the small spaces between the doors. Was the air getting warmer?

When she passed, more ruins were discovered, even though they were almost buried in snow. Another gust of air pushed her, and she wondered if some higher power was beckoning her in… but once she was in, there was nothing of particular interest.

The sound of ice cracking brought her attention to what was behind her, and she brought her sword up just in time to save herself from being bludgeoned by a massive hammer. Sparrow's eyes went wide.

A frozen Hollowman. He was nothing but bone and ice. A chill attacked her as she stared into those eyes. She rolled to the side, and brought her sword up to attack, and before the dead man could react, she made a cut for its rib cage. Then an unexpected thrust, and she had been pushed aside, like a rag doll. Regaining herself, Sparrow blocked a second attack, though the power from this dead man was underestimated. She felt like she was being crushed…!

Trying to focus her energy, she felt built up the Will within her trembling hand and released, before Sparrow closed her eyes and they were both engulfed in flames.

She opened her eyes again to find that the frozen Hollowman was no more, and she sighed, letting her back rest on the snow. Laying like this, she saw a clear view of the sky. God, she hated Hollowmen with a passion…

After she regained her strength, she stood up and put her sword on her back, walking farther into the odd ruins. She found something like a quarry, or steep canyon of some kind. It wasn't that deep… she was curious. Her fingers fell upon the rope that was at her hip, and she looked to see a particular ruin that proved to be supportive.

Tying one end of the rope there, she pulled and tugged, before carefully and cautiously approaching the edge. Then—

… _Click_.

--That was a familiar sound. She became frozen stiff as an image of Lucien came to mind, pistol aimed at the poor little Sparrow. Hair on her neck stood up straight.

_**Bang!**_

Sparrow fell to her knees, hands clutching her chest in fear. She felt no pain, and she heard a thud behind her. She trembled with aftershock as she looked over her shoulders. What seemed to be a bandit laid there… a hole in the head, and a gun in his cold dead hands. She looked further, seeing the figure of another man.

… and her heart dropped.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Connor's voice shouted as he entered the ruins. "You could've died! Do you know how many creatures crawl around this part of land?! You're lucky I got here in time!"

"I'm sorry…" Sparrow said, clutching the fabric over her chest tightly, as if something may pop out. "Don't be mad…"

Connor waltz over, and kicked the dead body. Then he looked at her, seeing the rope she had dropped. Well, what did she plan on doing before he interrupted, eh?

"Just next time, at least leave a note. Christ, did you pull that on your--…" Husband. Sparrow knew what he was going to ask, and it didn't help that Connor tried to pretend he didn't ask. Sparrow glared at him, and she wanted to say no… but she did pull a disappearance on her husband once or twice. Sparrow didn't look sad at the mentioning of her husband thought. "Ugh, women…"

"Well, I can take care of myself…"

"You would've gotten shot if I hadn't blown off that blokes head!"

"Well, it wouldn't have happened if someone gave me a little tour or something!"

"You got your tour the first day we arrived!" He shouted over her, which he slowly came to realize… that she… was right. Connor gave a sigh, seeing Sparrow pouting up at him with those big blue eyes in an angry manner, and his own eyes rolled within his skull. Ugh… Women.

"Well, what are you doing here anyway?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, get ready for this one. I've finally pit a major point in rocketing this story higher. I can't wait for this chapter to get out, because I just really want to see some of the reactions to this. It's a big step for me, because I've finally hit chapter seven. The highest chapter I've ever gotten, on any story. Yes! Soon, I'll be in the double digits! Yes!**

**Hah, I'm a dork… Sorry. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer, all characters but Connor and Lucy Phair belong to Lion Head.**

**Chapter Seven**

A Fatal Discovery

"I'm touring myself."

"You don't even know what you're doing…" Connor snapped back, taking the rope from the ground and eyeing the edge, which was like a cliff. "If you're going anywhere, I'm going first."

"I'm not a child—"

"—but you're my responsibility, and if I have to treat you like a child, then I will!" He said, grasping the rope as he neared the edge… and suddenly, he didn't want to go. Sparrow glared at him, reaching for the rope before suddenly, he turned a shoulder on her and began to tug tightly on the rope. If she wanted to go somewhere, he was going with her.

Beginning to climb down, he tried to keep himself looking up, for the sake of seeming chicken.

"Don't fall, old man." Sparrow said with every spice of snarkiness she could state. Sighing, he took a firm grasp, and you could hear the annoyance in him. Glaring at the red hooded girl, he began to lower himself down. As time passed, Sparrow rose a brow and looked over the edge. Connor was still glaring at the woman as he went lower… and lower… and came to realize he had to stop when he was at the bottom… because, he was stopped abruptly by his rear touching ground first.

A laugh was heard, and he looked to glare at Sparrow. Getting up, he looked around and out-lined his gun with a finger. Looking around, he didn't see much of anything. Slouching, he sneered with a hint of annoyance. He was hoping he'd find a reason to why he'd have to go back home, but by the looks of it—

"Here I come!" Sparrow rang, and Connor snapped up at her.

"I didn't say it was clear!"

"You don't say a lot of things." Connor went quiet at her words, and he crossed his arms stubbornly as he began to walk around. Nothing special was here, so what was the point in coming? Sparrow was such an odd girl. Couldn't be like Lucy and stay out of trouble…

A sudden thud brought him to whip around, worried that she might've fallen on her head and cracked it open… instead, she stood there with her chin tilted up, hands on her hips, showing off a heroic pose.

He rolled his eyes and scowled.

"Well, nothing interesting here. Lets go."

"What's with you, huh? You were so excited in coming back here, but you won't let me out of your sight! How am I suppose to enjoy something, huh?"

"Listen, you could be anywhere but here—…" He fell silent, and thought he was being a little silly… He knew exactly what she might find here, but it frightened him. If she did happen to find it—uuugh—he trusted Sparrow, with some things, but in spite of that he had no idea about where she stood between chaotic or lawful.

This could cause as some problem…

He turned away from her, looking at the jagged walls. Some spaces were narrow, some wide. It really wasn't all that jagged. It really only looked like steep slopes. For some reason, he realized the lack of snow. He shuddered.

"This is amazing!" Sparrow said, and Connor turned on his heels and clutched his chest, fearing the worst.

Sparrow, some how, managed to walk deeper through the terrain without Connor noticing. She seemed to be staring up at something, something that made her blue eyes as wide as saucers.

"What?" Connor said, dashing over to her side. "What did you find? Don't touch anything—"

"—It's so massive…"

Connor followed her gaze, and stared up at the set of jaws that lay before him. It sent shivers up his spine. He had heard of Jack of Blades. He read into him, studied artifacts and found himself standing in front of demonic figures in black robes… This large skeletal remains were that of a large, mean, nasty dragon. The former body of the particular Jack. The same Jack who came from the void, the same Jack who repeatedly threaten various lands over the word.

He gasped, suddenly realizing he hadn't been breathing for the previous moments… and his shoulders dropped. Now, he was sure. Absolutely positive that the item he was told to find, was… what he found once before.

Sparrow had raised a hand to touch a sharp tooth of the skeleton. A sudden pull, and she took it right out of the jawbone. Connor cringed and rubbed his scruffy chin, trying to think of a reasonable excuse to leave… Connor already began to head towards the only exit available. He didn't want to have some evil demonic little—

"… It's real."

"Sparrow, we're leaving." Connor said, ignoring the words she spoke in awe. "Lucy's going to kill me if I don't come back before dawn—"

"Connor, I've discovered a great artifact, Connor! Connor, look! Do you know what this is?!"

Connor swallowed hard and gave a silent pray. _To any higher being that can hear this, please… don't let it be what I think it is._ Then with that, he turned and his eye looked upon the texture of an ancient and enchanted item.

His heart stopped.

"No, I don't know what that is…"

"This mask I hold within my hands right now, is the mask that used to be worn by the terrifying Jack of Blades. The same mask as the one on the walls at the guild, the same one who made that raid in Oakvale! The one who was cast into The Void and was reincarnated into a _dragon_. A _**dragon**_, Connor! Imagine that—"

"Yeah, yeah. No telling how old that is or what it's worth. They say there are a lot of people who claim to be Jack, but no one really knows. Maybe we should just leave it—"

"Oh, Connor! This is an _essential_ piece of history, in my _very_ hands!"

She didn't seem to be going anywhere without it. He felt a nervousness wash over him, and his hands were sweaty and cold… Shuddering, a bad taste came into his mouth. His hand slowly rubbed the hilt of Red Dragon. He could kill her. He could do it now, or maybe… he… shouldn't? His stomach turned and he gripped hold of the rope.

A hot sweat attacked his body and left his limbs cold.

"Get a hold of yourself. It's just a mask! Let's go before it gets dark—"

"Watch out!"

A sudden swing, and both Sparrow and Connor whipped out their cutlasses, and Connor spun just in time to block a damn good thrust given by a soul-less dead man. He glared into those pale blue empty eyes and gritted his teeth, before thrusting back, sending it to the ground.

Connor whipped out is Red Dragon, and not even within two seconds, he had pulled the trigger so fast, Sparrow couldn't believe it. He managed to empty out his pistol without even trying. The creature didn't rise back up, which was a bonus. God, she wanted a gun like that…

"Is that a Dragonstomper 48?" She had to ask, before turning to see another creature of the undead and slashing it, knocking it to the ground and thrusting the blade into bone. She hated these guys. They just kept coming…

"No. The one and only Red Dragon. Now are you going start leaving or what?"

"Fine!" She said, running passed him and gasping the rope firmly before scrambling up the cliff. He managed to fend off most of them, before grabbing hold of the ropes himself and didn't stop or look back until he finally reached the edge.

"Now, we're going home… What are you going to do with that mask, eh?" He couldn't help but immediately ask, even if he was breathless. That mask… was going to bring a lot of trouble. He felt his stomach turn. Connor didn't want to really find out what would happen when she walked in the house with it. "Sell it?"

_Please, don't let her sell it…!_

"No."

_Thank you!_

"I'm going to keep it as a trophy, or souvenir."

… _He must've done something wrong to deserve this._


	8. Chapter 8

**So, chapter eight, and I'm starting to slow down. School's starting again, and I'll be releasing chapters now in a slower pace. I sometimes type my chapters on my laptop at school, because sometimes I get inspiration to write, but it's hard to type when someone's telling you to shut it off, or when they're standing directly behind you.**

**Okay, just thought you should know, don't expect my chapters to come out every day. Disclaimers, ect…**

**Chapter Eight**

A Reunion of Sorts

Everything was cold. Everything was numb, from my fingertips to my toes. All was dark…

Connor and Sparrow were on their way back to Snowspire… but a snowstorm had swept the ruins just in time to cover their footsteps. The winds prevailed over their strength, and it wasn't long before they soon became knee deep… and soon, deeper, to where the weight kept them from moving.

Damn… She was going to die a frozen death, and she wasn't even going to have a grave to lie down in.

Even though death was creeping over her, she would've liked this a few months earlier… alone. If Connor was going to die with her, she couldn't help but wonder about Lucy… It was all Sparrows fault if Connor never made it back to Lucy, because Sparrow's the one who brought him out here. She's the reason they're freezing to death.

"Connor…" Sparrow said through shuttering teeth. The heroine quivered in the snow as she tired to look back at him. Inside, a tremor rolled down her spine, seeing that he was no longer conscious. "Connor!"

She twisted in the snow, trying to find her feet, which the hero couldn't find. The girl felt so pathetic. To really be so hopeless in helping someone…

The wind blasted her face, knocking down her hood, and she thrashed, grunting as she forced herself into flailing. Tossing and turning, squirming and struggling, wriggling like a little worm. Finally, she gave a roar, crying out, praying that someone would save them. At least Connor… Connor had someone to live for…!

Her actions were no longer as invigorative, as her hands wear to a frazzle. Tears threatened to drop, but she knew if she started to cry now, surely they'd freeze on her cheeks. Her exhaustion was over taking her, and her arms dropped to the snow that was nearly at her ribs. She whimpered, feeling washed out and drained. If only she was younger or something. She would be stronger, and she'd save him… but right now, she couldn't even turn towards him, let alone reach. The snow tamed her savage attempts at rescuing Connor.

So this was it. She finds possibly the most incredible phenomenal artifact, and no one would ever even know… As she felt herself begin to numb all over… somewhere deep inside began to feel warm and nice. This feeling happened twice before, when a bullet impaled her sternum and punctured through her heart.

This was death. This was death that was taking her over… If she was dying now, Connor must've already died long ago…

She closed her eyes and let death take her, at least she thought she was letting death take her. Moments after, something grabbed her and cracked an eye open to see a white hooded figure. She was expecting to be in a perfect world, being carried bridal style by her husband… but no, this figure was not something she was accustomed to.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Sparrow only breathed in cold air, and everything went dark as she heard the mumbling sound of voice that wasn't her own.

Black. Nothing but ever lasting blackness. What was this, hell? Or a dreamless sleep she was in? Or did her eyes go bad?

A tingling sensation filled her body, and yes, she was warm, too.

Attempting to move, she didn't feel anything right away… but… she wasn't in snow anymore. Yes, Sparrow was positive she had died now. Just confused where she was going. She expected Rose's face to be there when Sparrow opened her eyes. She tried to open her eyes… and snapping them open, she shuddered uncontrollably.

"Still cold? I'll get more blankets." A voice said, and—oh—how familiar that voice was. "Your not as wild and promiscuous as you were ten years ago, so don't try any of that funny stuff anymore. Everyone knew the snowstorm was coming around…"

Sore muscles had forced the inquisitive Sparrow to sit up, supporting herself with her arms. She didn't take note of her surroundings, but she stared at the figure ahead of her, and it left her with an open mouth. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Hammer…" How lucky Sparrow was to know her. Emotions stirred and she took a deep breath, feeling good as she breathed in and exhaled. Suddenly falling back, she clutched the blankets like a child. She was so happy to see her again. Best friends, and everything. Sparrow never really had a best friend… she was always coming and going. Beginning to bawl, she tried to keep her hiccups inside.

"Hey, now! What's all this about?" Hammer asked, alarmed. Bringing another blanket, she covered her smaller friend with an additional layer, and sat down next to her weeping friend. "Don't cry, really. You're fine—"

"I know…" _No, I'm not fine._ Sparrow secretly thought to herself, but she took another breath, and how, it never felt so amazing to finally breathe. "I'm just… so glad I get to see you again."

This, to a degree, was a lie. She was happy to see her old friend, and at the same time, she thought for sure… she would be reunited with her family…

Hammer chuckled.

"Yeah, I'm glad to see you, too… You gave us monks here quite a wake up call. Though we had another troll in the ruins, and we couldn't have that. When I saw it was you, well, what kind of a friend would I be if I didn't help you?!"

"What kind of a monk would you be if you didn't help anyone?" Sparrow laughed.

"Haha, yeah. You're going to be fine here. Both you and your friend…"

… Oh, that's right. Connor!

"Where is he?" Sparrow asked, before Hammer pointed at the sleeping figure that lay paralleled to the Heroine of Albion. He seemed fast asleep… Thank God he was alive. Another deep breath seemed to relieve her of all stress, at the moment… Her shoulders went limp, and she counted her lucky stars… "… How long have we been here?"

"One day. You gave me a scare. I didn't expect you to come all the way to Snowspire, let alone find me in the mountains. Well, I guess I found you. Just in the knick of time, too!" Hammer said, smiling as Sparrow whipped her eyes. "… erm… Who is he, anyway?"

"Connor Phair, and I don't fancy him, if you're wondering. He's married."

"Ah, right. Well, don't strain yourself to go anywhere soon. We have rum, so don't hesitate to warm yourselves up…"

"You're--…" leaving, yes. Hammer had more things to do than talk right now, surely. "—I was going to ask, how is it? Do you like it here?"

"Yeah… and I think I'm beginning to understand violence…"

"That's good…"

"I'm assuming you've been taking care of yourself…" Hammer said, and Sparrow went silent, her mind becoming like a boat adrift at sea. This made the monk's brow knit with concern. "You are, aren't you?!"

"I'm breathing, aren't I?" Sparrow managed to say, closing her eyes. She peeked over at Connor, seeing his eyes were closed shut. "I'm handling it… just taking baby steps." A large hand was placed on Sparrow's shoulder, and a light squeeze forced her to look up at her friend.

"You may think you've lost them, but remember… You've still got me."

"Yeah… Yeah, I do." Sparrow's smile was feeble, but resounding, and she nodded. She was relieved, and was so grateful for her friend. "Yeah… I do." She said again.

"—and Garth."

Sparrow laughed, and nodded as well. Sure, Sparrow would consider him to be a valid and well-found friend. Then Hammer thought up of another person.

"Reaver's out of the question, innit he? Never really could trust him, not from the beginning." Sparrow agreed, but then the mentioning of someone else… "Theresa has always been there for you—"

"She started it… I know she started it all, everything." Sparrow tried to keep herself seething with rage. "It's all her fault…!"

"What's this all about—"

"Don't you remember what Lucien said, before he transported you to the Spire? He said he merely listened. He listened to her. It was Theresa who told him everything, doesn't it all make sense now? Theresa told him about the Spire, and Theresa tricked my sister—She tricked us to get it—it was her idea all along!"

Sparrow gasped, out of breath, and Hammer looked down at her with a dithering stare. The hero wanted to writhe in frustration. She didn't believe Sparrow!

"It's true! You… ugh… just have to think about it…!"

"Don't do too much thinking, calm down. You don't need to get yourself worked up… Get some rest, Sparrow." She said, before tucking in the hero, and beginning to leave. Sparrow just stared at the ceiling, feeling abandoned and… disregarded. Ugh… No one would ever believe her, even her best friend… Then a small voice came in after Hammer was long gone.

"_The puppet goes against its master?"_

"Hm?" She snapped her head to Connor, but he was asleep. Sparrow blinked, and continued to stare at him, expecting his lips to move. Or something… she ended up staring at him for who knows how long… before her eyelids began to feel hefty and torpid. She must've been hearing things… That's what she told herself, before she had another dreamless sleep.

**Sorry, I'd write more, but I'm just so tired. Sad, because I wanted to write more before ending it, but I really need sleep. Forgive me! I'll try to make my next chapter a little longer than the others!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okaaay, chapter nine. I was hoping that chapter eight would be longer, but of course, we all need sleep. I know I usually update practically at midnight, but I could've stayed up later that night, and it's just something I don't want to hassle about. Another thing, the subject of Theresa.**

**I heard a lot of rumors going around that in the game, she's an original character from Fable I, but this isn't true. I believe that it's a reincarnation of the original Theresa, but if it was, I highly doubt that she'd turn into a sinister antagonist. Not willingly, at least, but hey, five centuries can change a person.**

**I heard from the wikipedia site that she made a pact after the Sword of Aeon's bit, so she could be like Scythe… but I have a strong feeling that she's just a reincarnation of the original Theresa, and I really believe she's… well… if I tell you what I think she is, I could ruin the whole story I'm writing… so, I won't tell you, until the right time comes. Heheh…**

**ON WITH THE STORY! Disclaimer, ect.**

**Chapter Nine**

A Guest in Their World

Waking up to the feeling of someone gently shaking her, Sparrow opened her eyes to see Connor's relieved face. He smiled down at her, before he glared down at her. Ugggh, she knew what he was going to say…

"How could you be so reckless? We could've died, you know?!"

"I'm sorry… We were on our way, weren't we?" Sparrow said in her defense… but she knew very well about how close he was to dieing. She nearly killed him, and she did feel a heavy guilt. Yes, he was right in everyway… but at least they were still alive… "I didn't know, if I did, I wouldn't had left…"

"You're not leaving my sights again, either."

"… Fine." Whatever made him happy. Sparrow knew she just lost the privilege of being independent. She slowly sat up, and Connor placed his jacket on… and then slowly realized the feeling of the blankets she had clutched her hands. Oh, they had dried their clothes, and apparently, Sparrow was still in the given robes. She slowly got up, her knees feeling weak. "We're leaving, then? That's it?"

"Yes," He replied with a sharp tone of annoyance. "That's it."

Sparrow replied with nothing, and Connor picked up a heap of clothing, and placing them into her arms. The gunman next turned, arms crossed and he stared at the wall… Oh, she was expected to change?! While he was standing there…?

… Okay, enough of being a prude, Sparrow. It's fine, he's not looking.

She relieved her shoulders of the rough monk robes and began to put them on. Just, an undershirt, tight jeans, and began to put on her actual outfit. Now that she thought about it, she could be called Scarlet Robe… even though it was already taken… but she didn't mind being called Riding Hood, or Cardinal... Scarlet Rose… Then again, Sparrow was just fine.

A sight over took Sparrow as she finished with a red scarf, to which she tossed over her shoulder, 'round her neck and then put her hood up… Something was missing, though. She looked to Connor, who still faced the wall, and naïvely asked…

"Do you know where my mask is?" Sparrow asked, receiving a sigh from her friend, but it didn't faze her. He pointed to her bag of holding, to which her mouth made a circled 'Oh' and she rummaged around… Pulling it out, and smiling as her thumb ran over the cheek of the mask. Why did she love this mask so much? Because, it's something new and strange. Strange indeed, how Connor turned a concerned eye on her. She noticed this, and looked at him. "What?"

"Do you know where that's been?"

"Maybe… Do you?" She asked, and he suddenly went silent. She left it at that, assuming he didn't know a damn thing, and she continued to caress the little mask with her leathered thumb. "I think maybe we should wait…"

"I don't know. Do we want to really bother them?"

"It's not really bothering…" She said quietly, tempted to wear the mask… but decided that a temple wasn't the place to hide your face. "… but I guess we could, for Lucy's sake."

Connor nodded and headed out the door as Sparrow placed her mask carefully in her bag. As she left, she couldn't help but wonder what Garth and Reaver were doing. Old Kingdom artifacts reminded Sparrow of Garth… and Reaver, well, valuables seem to get his interest. If only she had a looking glass or some kind, just to check up on them… as well as Hammer, when Sparrow's away… because obviously, she won't be there forever. Maybe they could write to each other from time to time… Most of the people in Albion could read, so it was assumed that Snowspire folk could to.

Pushing those thoughts out, she walked behind Connor, guessing that he knew where he was going… She was a little too distracted to really take heed, obviously lollygagging in hopes of seeing her best friend. Just as she turned another corner in these repetitive hallways, she heard someone clear their throat, clearly stating their presence. Hammer was standing ahead of them, and needless to say, she seemed a bit sweaty…

"Where you think you're going?" Hammer asked, and Sparrow gave a puzzled look. "You're not going anywhere without me, mind you. We escort company like you to Snowspire, you know." Sparrow gave a gleeful smile.

"No disapproval here."

"Good then. I assume you're all ready?" Sparrow nodded, as to which Connor just agreed and let it be. "Excellent, I'll be able to say a proper good bye then."

Sparrow thought maybe Connor would be left in the dark, but she didn't mind. So long as he doesn't pose a question, she won't explain. There is much in little Sparrow's life she'd like to keep a secret… Sparrow would like to keep in control of her "filter" of information about her. If Connor didn't need to know it, it won't be said.

"So, how long will you both be in Snowspire, the both of you?"

"Not for long, I feel. I want to go back to Albion and study this little item I found…"

"I'm not leaving anytime soon. After I get back to Snowspire, I'm heading home." Connor said tiredly as they were lead out of the hallway, and into a much bigger main room.

"How is Oakfield, since I've been gone?"

"Well, while you were away, monks from the Shadow Temple assaulted the underground spring. I managed to get those miscreants before they could attack the Temple of Light itself. Now it's doing fairly well, they're expanding even."

"A hero's work is never done, is it?"

"Haha, no, it's not." She said quietly as they came to large double doors. Through the cracks of the door, wind whistled, and snowflakes drifted in, melting almost instantly before they could land on the cold floor. Yes, it was cold, but on the walls perched torches that lit every nook and cranny. Yes, they were soon to part as soon as the entrance of the town came to view. Sparrow secretly vowed she'd make sure, this time, her friend would die of a natural cause, not from a bullet. "It's never over."

"Well, at least it keeps you in shape. Working here definitely does that for me."

"I noticed, you looked different from when I last saw you… and it's only been three or four months…"

_Wonder if it's snowing in Bowerstone…_ Sparrow came to wonder as she saw the dozens of white blankets across the land. She shuddered, but not from the cold. Looking at Connor, from the corner of her eye, she then wondered… _Is he just angry with me, or is something bothering him…?_ It was clear to see, something was restraining him from talking. Such an odd man…

"Well, I could say the same to you." Hammer said, continuing to gossip and chatter as they walked a curvy path towards the large town. They shared a lot of conversations, many words and thoughts… Connor stayed silent. Well, if he was going to be like that, she'd let him. He can be such a jerk at times.

It wasn't long before they neared closer and closer, walking through the thick snow like this. It was better than before, though. There were no pestering winds anymore. Only soft chilling winter breezes wisped at them under the grey sunless sky. She didn't mind the weather, though. After a long silence, it was then that she realized… Connor wasn't talked at all! Wasn't he the least bit curious about how well they knew each other? Well, with the trick she pulled, she wouldn't put it passed him, but it's a little immature to hold a grudge… Or maybe it was the way Sparrow was interpreting it that made it so much of a big deal…

Or maybe she was being inconsiderate about the whole ordeal…

Hammer and Sparrow shared good byes, and upon their entrance into town, Connor said nothing, demanded nothing, and asked nothing. It was disturbingly silent. So silent that it made the girl worry… and even feel bad. She must've made him real angry if he's not saying a word…

Staring at his back as he walked into his home, she abruptly stopped at the door, hesitant… and waited for Lucy's shouting voice to give her a reason to leave. Sparrow waited, and waited, but nothing but a calm silence. Sparrow suddenly went sick, feeling that maybe something horrible went wrong… and she slowly walked in to see the woman fast asleep on a rocking chair. A rocking chair… hah.

She saw that Connor had stopped, looking over his shoulder and seeing Sparrow and waved her off with a nervous smile. Slowly, Sparrow sneaked up the stares that seemed to creak beneath her feet. Nimbly, she came to the guest bed and suddenly plopped herself on the bed, digging around in her bag… and pulled out the mask.

Such a strange mask it was, too. Seemed to be nothing of this land, or Albion. I seemed so… authentic and new. Was it made of some sort of strange rare material or made of something old and ancient? Was it cursed, or magical…?

… What was on Connors mind?! Ugh, it bugged her to no end! It was so… irritating! What was he not telling her?!

_He doesn't like your company._

A cold shudder went down her spine. Did… what… erm… Were those her thoughts…?

Shivering again, she peeked down the stairs, hoping to see them as they spoke, but it wasn't so. She had to just stay quiet… Sparrow was paranoid now. What if they didn't like her company? What if they were getting tired of her or—she was becoming a burden…?

Sparrow slowly placed the mask back into the bag, and listened in to the conversation, not making a sound, not even breathing, believing it would make it harder to listen in on their conversation.

"You're back!" Lucy said, not as much anger in her voice as before. Her happiness was cut short though, somehow…

"Shh…" Why was be trying to be so damn quiet? She can't eavesdrop when he's quiet! How is she supposed to know what she needs to apologize for if she doesn't find out what it is! "We have trouble on our hands, love…"

"What do you mean…?"

"The _bird_ brought something to the _nest_…" Sparrow's eyes fell to her bag. So it has something to do with her mask…? Hmph… "I know, we went over this before, but listen… don't hate me, please…" The next words were mumbled, so quietly that Sparrow believed she missed something… something… What's so bad about keeping the mask as a little trophy, or souvenir…?

Then her stomach dropped at the next words Lucy instantly said.

"How can we get her to leave?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Wow… The big ten. XD**

**I was really excited to see that I had over ten reviews. Not a big number, but it's in the double digits. It just makes me so happy. I come on the computer after a day or two and—boom—three more reviews. Hahaha, I just hope I can keep them coming. To Mr. Anonymous, I'm so glad you give me a review for each chapter. Lets me know that someone has been reading my chapters, even if they don't have an account. ******

**But other than that, I'm surprised no one mentioned any of my errors. I know some places can be harsh about your way of speech and/or writing, but I'm happy to find out that no one really minds. Sometimes I read over my chapters and just cringe. XD Good thing I'm not going to publish this as a book or anything.**

**I don't own any characters, except for my own that I created and I don't own any rights to the Saga either. This is my new disclaimer. It's more specific. ******

**Fun fact: Did you know "Reaver is notably a bisexual"? Don't believe me, look it up yourself in Fable's Wikia. XD I'm dead serious! Ohh, I'll die laughing when someone comes out with a Reaver slash of some kind. Haha, it slays me…**

**Chapter Ten**

Some Heroine of Albion

Sparrow had been mauling over the conversation they shared upon Sparrow and Connor's arrival home. Or, "Homecoming" so to speak. The Heroine of Albion had feeling an overwhelming sense of—well—being unwelcome in the household. She knew she'd just be leaving, one-way or another.

Which is just fine, because she didn't intend on staying too long anyhow. It's quite a while since she's seen Albion… and being Albion's Heroine, she must make sure it will be safe.

That it! That's the perfect reason to leave!

Not but a day later, between noon and morning, she was up and already packed before Connor could even mention word about her leaving. She had packed her bags and already she had bought a passage to the boat she would be boarding today. Walking down the stairs, she was welcomed by the same silence she parted with the other day. She hated it so much…

"Thank you, for letting me stay here at your expense and all… but I'll be leaving today, shortly." Lucy at the cash register looked up abruptly, as well as Connor, who only looked at her with his strange eye. "I'm sorry for being trouble."

Trouble was the key word. Trouble was something Lucy didn't like, and it seemed Connor didn't like it either. Sparrow was trouble at this point…

"Right then… I'll escort you—" Instantly, Sparrow interrupted with a tone that stated great disapproval. For some reason, Connor offering to escort made Sparrow angry. It was so… irritating…

"No. I don't want to be trouble." With that she walked out the door as calm as ever, she realized she was a little glad she left on that note. She didn't want to let him to bother. Though she didn't get a chance to walk across the street. Oh, but lo and behold, there was a hand gently holding onto her arm.

"Wait." Connor said, trouble in his voice. Haha, ohhh, trouble must've been a close friend to the Phair couple. "I think you should be informed…"

"No, no. Don't touch me, the trouble might brush off on you." Sparrow snapped, which seemed to startle Connor. What? Like she was going to curse him, seriously? Sparrow shot a glare at him, before rolling her eyes and walking on, before being stopped a second time by Connor.

"Listen, this isn't about you—well, it is—but it's about your mask, Sparrow."

"What about it?"

"It's an abomination, Sparrow." He said in a hushed voice. Sparrow quirked her eyebrow, but didn't believe him. "As long as you carry that mask—Sparrow—It's just… nothing good will come from carrying it."

"How do you know? Is there something you haven't been telling me, hm?"

"Yes… but…"

"But what? Oh, you won't tell me unless there's some sort of trade, but as far as I can tell, you already know almost everything about me. I'm only assuming, because obviously I'm suppose to find out on my own—but—it's not easy for me to eavesdrop—"

"Look at me—" Connor said, suddenly washing over with anger as he pulled down his eye patch.

Chills ran up and down her spine, and then back again. His eyes did not match… One eye was completely fine. The other was so gruesome and vile. It was black. There was no white in his eye, and she stared at it long enough that she saw her reflection in his eye. Her jaw was ajar and her eyes wide open.

Pursing her lips together after realizing this, she noticed the scar that seemed to be a direct and perfectly straight line that came from his hairline, to his jaw-line. She fully believed him, fully… but her hand fell to her bag, holding tightly, selfishly.

"This is what that mask gave me, Sparrow. If you don't put it back, you'll find out exactly how I got it…"

"… I'm not going to put it back… I'll find a more efficient way get rid of this abomination… Good bye, Connor."

With that, she had turned on her heels and left, walking briskly in the sugarcoated streets. Nothing, almost nothing, could break her stride now. Sparrow was supreme. If it were possible, fire would be left in the wake of her footsteps. In a sense, she was floating. She's walking on air right now, she's so high up in the sky… Sparrow was flying in a state of grace.

Though, there was something in the wind beneath her wings that threatened to take her down; the mask she carried within her talon. It brought an compelling and immense sense of dread…

Sparrow almost looked over her should, to see Connor… but kept her fluent footwork. She had seen what the eye-patch was covering, and she now knows what caused it… Shifty eyes were straight forward, but then again her mind was racing. What physical scar would be given for her to bear, if she did not fly with precaution…?

Getting on the boat with various others, she didn't look back at Snowspire until she was on the boat. Holding on the edge of the ship's railing. A winter breeze blew into her face, but it was soft, unlike the others. Her hood slowly went back, but she caught it and grasped it…

Why wouldn't the feeling within her gut go away? It curdled and thickened within her stomach, like sour milk. This feeling made her go down under to the passenger's quarters, and told herself quietly, "_Everything's going to be fine…_"

Everything's going to be fine. Just fine…

She never realized how long the trip was without someone to keep you company. Though she thought he was a bit of a annoyance and a bore, but he was a nice guy… in the beginning. She really didn't know him well enough to really be certain.

Nights were sleepless, and days were slow. She only came to the deck once, get breathe the salty air… but of course, there was nothing to see. They were surrounded by water. Just water, everywhere and nowhere else.

She didn't want to see the day, for some reason. The little bird was cooping herself up, and didn't bother to come out for anything…

Sparrow was at the point where she didn't even know if it was day or night… but she just assumed that when the sound of feet running around above her, she imagined that it was day time.

Though, if anything, it was the mask that captivated her. She didn't say far from it, fearing that it would sprout legs… or maybe talk. She had a strong feeling that it had been the strange voice she heard various times before… though sometimes, she didn't know if it was her thoughts, or something inside of the mask that was speaking through to her.

Sometimes, she didn't even sleep. Though… it wasn't until the third day, when she was nearly asleep… just before the break of dawn, in the absence of moon and sun… someone obviously wasn't awake to do lookout.

It was a dull short roar, and this made her eyebrows quirk… There was just silence off of that, before the sound of something propelling through the air made her eyes become wide. She's never heard that sound before. What was it? What was that sound? It was getting louder and closer…

A loud crack instantly followed by a crash shocked her into getting up, and was fooled by a sense of being awake. Like adrenaline, but like adrenaline, it would go away. You just never know when, exactly.

Her feet coming down on the floor, she slammed open the door and didn't realize the shouts and screams of the passengers on board. Sparrow wasn't the only one to hear that, apparently… Just down the hallway was a mess! Cracked wood and water was pouring in…

Heat overwhelmed her. The back, the neck, everywhere was hot. The salt water came to cover the whole floor in a shallow layer, but before it could tickle her feet, she dashed up the stairs to the upper layers. Her heart raced, paranoid that she might've left something behind, but she always carried everything on her.

Coming up, she fled like the other passengers, getting shoved and bumped on the way, but she looked around, and soon spotted a much larger ship within the waters.

Pirates…?

Sure as hell can't be Reaver. He's suppose to be in Samarkand… though, he never said how long he'd stay there. Her legs ached in her joints, more like fatigue, but just wanted to collapse right then and there. She had no idea how to handle this situation! They were firing with canon balls! Her lightening couldn't reach that far!

Closing her eyes, she got down on her knees and covered her head. Believe it or not, she wasn't quite ashamed as you'd think she'd be. What could anyone do? If Reaver were here, he'd be useful.

She shook violently as the sound of canon balls flew through the air, crashing into the ship… poking a hole in the ship upon impact. There was nothing she could do for the captain of the ship, who gave a constant chain or orders. She wanted to help… but she knew nothing about ships! Nothing!

Her skin felt like it was on fire, like the first night in her new home with her husband, but this wasn't going to end happy at all… instead of a constant passion, there was a looming sense of fear. Instead of gentle kisses, a barrage of canons firing from a distance was what she was feeling. Instead of the feeling and friction of skin against skin, the only thing she could feel was the wood underneath her.

Soon, things came to a stop. A horrifying silence swept everything around Sparrow… She dared to look up, and found half of the people who came on this voyage to Albion, dead. Sparrow looked over to the ship, which she expects to be far away, but no. A ship of screaming men was so dangerously close—they grasped their ropes and wooden planks—taking the ship by force.

The captain's men have given up, like cowards—yet—she could say the same thing for herself… Or—maybe—it's not too late! She stood up; bringing her hands in front of her and began to morph an electric ball between her hands… Faster. It needs to charge faster…! Just a little more, at least…! It's not too late now!

Before she could release a reasonable discharge of lightening, she was tackled down, and she writhed, her hood falling down in her struggle. The smelly pirate that forced her to the ground stared down and grinned, fancying her fair completion, blue eyes and long blonde hair.

"Ooh, we've been look'n for you…" She was pulled onto her feet by her arms and was restrained with tight bonds. "Not much of a tough Hero now, are you?!" He said, tightening his grip on her wrists that he held behind her back.

Sparrow looked around in panic, hating the thought. It was her fault? It was her fault they came?!

Pirates captured the remaining passengers and crews. She wriggled more as they were roughly handled, like her… but thing was… they weren't being escorted to the other ship. Seeing the detail of the ship… she had an inkling.

"Your trip has been cut short." A primp and proper voice stated. She recognized that voice anywhere. Who wouldn't? There was no one else who could even sound half as self-absorbed as he.

Little Sparrow had been forced into what one would call The Captain's Quarters, and yes, it was in fact Reaver. Sparrow fumed, anger with the lives lost on his way to find her. It wasn't necessary! Yet there he was, appearing to be completely unaware of what happened! Of what was going on! Her skin was still burning madly. It added on to the pressure.

"You can't do this! Stop them! Stop them from killing the survivors, Reaver! It's uncalled for!" She said, walking up to him and getting dangerously close. She was tempted to head-butt him, but what good would an unconscious Captain be?

Surprisingly, Reaver's glistening with that glaze of vanity showed a glint of something else. She gritted her teeth as Reaver only smiled calmly.

"Always so demanding. All you people say these days are "gimmie gimmie gimmie" with you, isn't it?"

"Excuse me?! You've just killed over half a boat of people! Just to get to me—"

"Oh, don't start feeling too high-and-mighty. I've got another reason for that, but right now, I need to round the men back up. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be with you in a moment—" Reaver stepped aside and waltzed to the door, completely care-free. Walking briskly, like she had been when she left Snowspire. Sparrow stared at his back as he walked, her jaw slightly dropped… Damn him…! How could he do that so easily?!

"Reaver…! Reaver, please don't take their life—… please—don't shoot them down—…" He stopped abruptly, looking back at her for a brief second to stare at the Heroine of Albion's pitiful sight. She had gotten on her knees, begging as best as she could. "It's not fair for them…!"

He stared with a raised eyebrow, before shutting the door and locking her in, alone. The voices of the pirates were silenced by one single bullet being fired into the air. Sparrow desperately got up, trying to find some sort of hole to peek out of. The damn windows were like the windows in Lucien's Tower… she couldn't see through them.

Pressing her ear to the door, she closed her eyes and tried to listen… Then a thought came… Was it true that you could really kill three people with one bullet? How many people were left on the assaulted ship now?

God, this was horrible timing… Those people, they wouldn't be coming back, no matter what she sacrificed. The Spire only grants one wish…


	11. Chapter 11

**I can't help but feel tingly when I read my reviews. It's like being in love—gah—I'm so thankful for them! Thank you. Question though… What color are Reaver's eyes? Better yet, what are the three's eye colors? I googled it, and it didn't give me a good answer, as well as Wikipedia.**

**I don't own any characters, except for my own that I created and I don't own any rights to the Saga either.**

**Chapter Eleven**

Don't Forget to Breathe

The Heroine was not left alone in Captain's Quarters for long. Who knows why, maybe he didn't trust her alone with his things, maybe he didn't want to give her a chance to escape, not that it were possible at this point. What would you do after you've gotten out? Summon some sort of beastly sea monster and ride it home? Doubtful… but if she could, she would.

As she reached for the knife that was fortunately still on her person, she arched her back and brushed against the handle of her dagger that was hoisted at her lower part of her leg. Good thing pirates weren't the brightest folk… she'd probably be hog-tied like this for the remainder of the trip, had they taken it.

Of course, it made her so angry that they took her items from her. Curse them—who knows—they might sell them or something. Ugh, they cost her a hefty sum of money, though! Not that they were special, just her only way of defense other than the dagger, which she held in her hands.

Sparrow was glad she didn't upgrade to a thicker, heavier dagger. This knife was dull, but it could be easily hidden. Beginning to saw the thick and dry ropes, she continued to press her ear to the door, listening.

Reaver's voice could be heard clearly.

"The damage is done, and we've got our little trinket. Set a new course to Bloodstone… Go on, get busy."

"That's all? Just a woman? We haven't checked the storage or the—"

"Oh, what I've got is something priceless…" The men went on their way. She heard many feet running across the deck, but the sound of Reaver's footsteps made her heart pound. What did he want from little Sparrow…?

She managed to cut through the bonds and she held them tightly. Nimble feet backed away from the door as the sound of him opening the door came to her ear, and she stared at him…

Look at him… Standing there, a smug little grin on his face… but then she had to ask him about the survivors… Sparrow wasn't the only one with questions, though.

"You shot them…" Sparrow said… earning a chuckle from the cocky pirate. "… I can't believe you—this misbehavior—it's completely unnecessary—…"

"Oh, do relax. I didn't kill anyone… I had other people kill other people." Reaver said, passing the blame to another, and Sparrow's posture slouched. This man… was unbelievable. He was rotten to the core… Feeling hopeless, she stared at him, unable to really do anything… Reaver finally rolled his eyes, seeming disappointed. "Tsk… I didn't kill everyone… There are some left…"

"You mean, one; they're completely unharmed, or two; they're severely hurt, but still alive. Which is it, Reaver?"

"The first one. Now, lets get down to business, shall we?" He said, walking over to a round table that featured a map, along with various other things that Sparrow could never see herself using… She kept her hands out of his sight as she watched him prop his feet up. Instantly… "Did you have a nice little f-fur-furlough, hm?"

"How did you find me?" She asked instantly, nearing the table.

"Oh… a coworker, you could say." He didn't want to give a specific name. Ugh…

"Theresa?"

"No, but very good guess. Haven't seen that blind crone since I was taken to Samarkand. Very nice place, though I was disappointed by it's women. Other than that, I found a lot of… interesting things." He didn't say what exactly, but Sparrow could care less. The pirate was getting on off topic.

"Then who?"

"My resources—"

"Garth?" Couldn't be Hammer, there's not one else… Reaver laughed and shook his head. "Who?! How?!"

"No, no, no." He said, extending his index finger to show disagreement. "My turn for questions. It's come to my attention that you're carrying something of great value on you… I know you have it, but my question is—"

"You can't have it." Sparrow said, not understanding how he found our, or why he wanted it, but she wasn't going to hand it over to him in exchange for freedom. She sneered at the pirate who also sneered. Both vex and cross, Reaver stood up.

"Wrong answer."

"Dare you to take it." Sparrow knew he was going to, whether she said this or not. She just wanted to dare him to get close… Come closer, Reaver. Do it… "Well, my turn to ask a question. We're friends, right? So, I feel like I've known you long enough to ask you…"

Reaver raised a brow in the silence that filled his wine glass with curiosity, so to speak. He walked towards her, glare at her in disbelief of many things she's saying.

"… are you putting on weight?"

Yes, Sparrow wasn't being completely serious. She wanted to insult him for not answering her questions directly, and it seems she's hit a nerve. You'd expect this kind of reaction from a high-class woman—

"How _**dare**_ you!" He said, grasping her red cloak and pulling her closer. Just as he did that, she brought her knife to his neck. She expected shock in Reaver's eyes, but he seemed unfazed. "You can't…"

"Immortal, I know… but I wouldn't mind testing the limits."

"I'll fill you full of lead before that happens." True, he could. The barrel of his Dragonstomper .48 was aimed at her temple, and she grinned. "You should considering yourself lucky—"

"I am quite lucky. Shoot me, if you don't mind cleaning up my blood on your floor. Do it. Third times the charm, isn't it?"

Reaver heard the girl grip tightly on the handle of her knife, and he glared her down with those intense eyes. Must be very good eyes, seeing as how if he had bad eyes, it wouldn't matter how good the gun was, he'd just miss. Though, Sparrow was truly bluffing… She knew she couldn't kill this man. She almost didn't want to… for a strange reason…

She didn't know what kind of force brought him to lower his gun down, but as he placed it back in it's holster, Sparrow did the same with her knife. The Heroine relaxed a little bit. Smirking, she raised her nose to him.

"How nice that we can work things out in a civilized manner."

Without missing one beat.

"If I can't keep it, I'll just keep you." Reaver said, a calm and oh-so-sure expression coming over him as he walked over to the large round table, shuffling some papers around.

"… What?"

"Oh, you can't live forever… but I can."

"No, I refuse."

"Of course you do… just count yourself lucky. You're going to be the envy of all in Bloodstone until death… or at least until you give up that mask." He said, picking up a compass as he placed the stack of maps down under a book he carelessly threw on them, to make sure he didn't lose them. "Of course, we might as well save the trouble and get married."

This had to be a bluff. He wouldn't get married to someone who had no… dowry. Just for a mask, would he really? Well, she wasn't willing to accept it… but she couldn't help but think he was bluffing. As he turned to look at her, he was surprised to find she was grinning.

"Sure. That way I can spend every coin you have on myself…!"

"… Erm… Hm. Yes, well… I don't think you'll be that kind of housewife."

"You would know, wouldn't you?"

He shot a glare at Sparrow, gripping the handle of his gun so tightly she heard his gloves softly creek. Well, she obviously was not going to get married, but she was going to put him through hell. Then, the mood in the room changed.

"We'll get married, right now—"

"No…" She said instantly. "Erm…"

"Oh, why? You were so eager to get married not but a second ago." He stepped closer to Sparrow, who felt herself shrink a bit. "You wear that sad look so well, you know… Infact… I'll get you a ring, first thing when we reach Bloodstone. I'd give you one right now, but I don't think you deserve something that costs more than your body…"

Sparrow felt a strange pang hit her. She wasn't a cheap woman… Gripping her left hand, she appeared so hurt. Reaver laughed at this, grabbing a rough hold of her chin. If it were anymore rough, it would bruise. He leaned in, but Sparrow felt panic take her and she pulled away.

"You never got over your family's death…" He stated, now not appearing so sinister. The grin was still hooked on his lips, and she had to look away, wanting to die at the mentioning o them… "How could anyone see you as a mother or wife, let alone a lover…"

"How could anyone see you as The Hero of Oakvale?!"

"… Touché, fiancée." He said, his grin no longer on his expression. At least, she didn't hear a smirk on his lips as he said these words. Damn… she hated this man. "So you found out about that."

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Sparrow said, keeping her eyes on the floor. That's her only complaint about Albion—there is nothing she can do to bring Oakvale back—she can't really "save" all of Albion…

"Yes, but you don't know everything. How strange, you remind me of Lucien—"

A fist that hit him perfectly in the chin silenced him. She would've slapped him, but it was just the mentioning of being compared to Lucien… How dare Reaver say that.

"You don't know a thing about what I've been through…!" Sparrow shouted, before Reaver grabbed a fire hold of the heroine's wrist and held his chin. Good thing he was immortal, or he'd be really pissed. His undying beauty is what he cherished most. Staring down at her, he grabbed the second hand she tried to use to pry her from the tight painful grip….

"You don't know a thing about what I've been through, either." He could've crashed his lips to hers… but he didn't. Why? Because he was too unbelievably irritated to give her the pleasure of something like that. He turned and pushed her down on the bed, and left her there. "I suggest you get used to this kind of treatment, because I don't think either of us will be making this easy for the other."

"I hate you." She seethed.

"Everyone does at first. You'll love me, one way or another." Reaver said, walking to the door, confident he'd make this hell for her.

"Your face isn't as perfect as you think, thief!" She shouted, just before the door was slammed shut. Yes, she was alone in the room… and being alone, she noticed the sickening feeling in her stomach. Sparrow felt suffocated… Damn… Damn…! "I hate you!" She shouted again, even though he probably didn't hear her.

Then she realized… her lack of sleep for the previous days has made her feel so… sick and tired. Laying her head down on a pillow, she noticed something. It smelt like Reaver. She gritted her teeth and clutched her red scarf, covering it over her mouth and nose… This would have to do…


	12. Chapter 12

**Twenty reviews?! Holy cow, you guys! I can't say anything else but… wow! Wow. I'm so happy. I had to make this really long. I had to. I hope you enjoy it.**

**I don't own any characters, except for my own that I created and I don't own any rights to the Saga either.**

**Chapter Twelve**

To Take A Chance

"This way, little Sparrow!" Rose shouted as she ran from the small girl. Sparrow was but a young child, running through a meadow of white and yellow flowers. Those certain flowers that she didn't know the name of, a never ending field of them.

"Come on, hurry up!"

_I'm running as fast as I can…!_

Sparrow followed her sister, even though she wasn't able to keep up with her... The sky was clear and blue; the sun was so close it could kiss the land, even though it wasn't that hot at all.

"Over here, look!"

_Where did you go…?_

Some strange cloud surrounded the edges of the sky, closing in on sun that was dead center in the big blue. As the light from the sun was choked, so was Sparrow's vision. No longer could she see her sister. Sparrow slowed to a walk, frightened for the worst…

_Rose… Rose, come back!_

The white fog came to a dull gray color as she continued to walk, and little by little, the flowers became less and less… A soft thunder cradled the silence around her, and as she stared into the nothingness of the fog, she realized she was alone…

_Rose…?_

Little Sparrow was all by herself. Soon, even the flowers disappeared. There was nothing but dry dirt and blinding fog… that soon faded to black.

Sparrow snapped up in the bed, covered in a sheet of sweat. Her blue eyes stared at the floor as she rubbed her temples, still shaking, even though she knew it was only a dream. Her breathing slowed down and she tried to find something to lean against, something that wouldn't move, no matter how the motion of the ocean was.

"How was your sleep, fiancée?" Her blue eyes looked over to the man who was sitting in the chair by the table. Sparrow placed her feet firmly on the wooden floor. Glaring at the King of Thieves, she didn't want to answer him. Not when he called her by that name.

"You know my name very well, Reaver. Start using it." Sparrow said quietly, a little dazed and still feeling tired. Panting quietly, she reached out to the wooden figure to her side, standing up with her weak legs; she leaned against it to support her and tried to overcome the sickness in her belly.

"When's the last time you ate, Sparrow?"

"… Before… before I left Snowspire." She said, looking over at him. Hesitant movements were made as she eyed the green apple in his hand proved to be promising. Sparrow looked at him nervously.

"Don't look so unsure, I'm not going to _**slug**_ you… It wouldn't be very gentlemen-like if I hit a woman who wasn't a whore."

… Well, at least he wasn't calling her a cheap whore or some kind. Thank God he saw other people in different lights. He beckoned her over, gesturing to the chair across from him. Shaky hands dropped to her sides as she tried to walk with grace to the chair.

"You don't drink rum, do you?" He asked, to where she shook her head no. "Not even wine?"

"Once, but I didn't like it…"

"How juvenile." He laughed, taking a bite into the green apple. That's when Sparrow's stomach gave a growl, and she blushed, pressing her belly with both hands in attempt to silence it. Reaver grinned. "Hungry, dear?"

Sparrow glared as she sat down, and just stared down at the table, not wanting to watch him eat. While she wasn't looking, he brought a second apple out, more yellow than the one he was eating, but just as ripe. He put it down in front of her, and she stared at it.

"Did you poison it?"

"Good idea." Reaver said, reaching back out for it, before Sparrow suddenly took it in both hands and bit into it, her mouth being taken over by the sweetness of it. Oh, the last thing she ate was a bit of bread, and she wasn't even hungry when she had it. Reaver chuckled at this, finding it somewhat immature. "Crafty hands..."

"I still hate you." Sparrow said, holding on to the apple as if it would disappear any moment if she didn't make sure to handle it with care. Blue eyes glare at him intensely, thinking he'd try to do something if she didn't be cautious…

"Oh, I know you do." He said, grinning as he picked up a mirror on the round table and examining his features. Sparrow rolled her eyes, now slowly feeling better. As she realized that the darkness in the room was because of little light—and not because she was going blind—she stared out of the window. It was a full moon tonight… "We'll be arriving in the morning."

"I'm not marrying you."

"It doesn't matter, you won't get away. There is no other exit than the front doors—"

"—And the passage you and I used to escape the Spire guards. Mmhm."

"Hah, it's not like you'll be in that room often. Even if you do, you won't be alone. I'll make sure of it…"

"You know, while you were away, I went inside of your house… I found a lot of juicy things." Sparrow said, taking another bite and licking her lips. Reaver paused, gazing at his reflection in silence. "I found a journal… and you know what…? You're just as breakable as you ever were—"

"I don't mind cutting off that tongue of yours, Sparrow." He warned, but it didn't stop her.

"You think you're unstoppable now, but you're like every other living being. You have feelings—you're weak and breakable—just like me."

"Don't patronize me—"

"I'm not! Aren't you listening? The only difference between you and I is that I didn't betray the ones I live for…" Reaver glared at her from across the table, his mirror suddenly slammed down on the wooden damp surface. "… What was your name, before you changed it?"

"There is no other name. I've always been Reaver." He is Reaver. Right. Sparrow rolled her eyes, and slouched as her thumb caressed the apple in thought. "The man you're confusing me with is long since dead… Left behind in Oakvale."

"Just like the woman who trusted him so much… Did she run that building? Ursula's Home For Little Lost Souls? Was that her?"

"No, I don't know who she was." Sparrow fell silent, and she came to her last few bites, before feeling overwhelmingly tired again… "I could care less of who she was, or what her name was."

"You won't remember me when I die, will you…?" She couldn't help but wonder. "I know I can't forget you and your vanity. I sacrificed myself for your youth. Remember that, at least…"

Sparrow sighed and stood up, stretching with a satisfied stomach. The hero walked over to the bed and flopped herself on the far edge of the bed, not wanting to be seen by the likes of him. Reaver could be so cruel… Then, her ears twitched at the sound of something shifting. Reaver's boots stated he was on the move, and Sparrow's skin didn't crawl… though, to think he wouldn't be up to something for once.

The bed shift, and instantly Sparrow sat up, alarmed, baffled and frazzled.

"What are you _**DOING?!**_"

"Have you forgotten whose bed you're sleeping in?" Sparrow's delayed goose bumps finally arrived, and she backed against the wall as Reaver took off his boots.

"You—You're sleeping on the floor!"

"What am I? Your furry mutt?"

"Don't talk about my friend like that!" She said, tempted to just shove him off, but that might prove to result in… bad results. "Okay… As long as you… don't try anything…" She paused, seeing a grin creep on Reaver's face.

"When I woke up this morning, I said, "I'm going to make somebody love me." I knew it would be you. You're so lucky—"

"No! No, no, no!" She shouted, as to where Reaver simply removed his cape and everything else but his trousers. No, not even a shirt, for your information. Without all that clothing on him, he didn't seem so frighteningly intimidating… and she felt a little better… but something intense swept over her at the sight of his chest. Ohm, why can't he be hairy and stinky like all the other pirates?!

"Get over yourself, I didn't bring a condom. I don't intend to have children—"

"Even if you did—it wouldn't happen…"

"Oh, little Sparrow… It's going to happen if you're my fiancée… Don't you remember? Honeymoon?" This made Sparrow squirm, and feeling sick, she couldn't help but suddenly get dizzy. It could've been head rush, but right now, it was getting her off balance. Dull sparkles crossed her vision, as well as dark spots, and she grimaced. Reaver took note of this, and sighed. She was going to faint any moment now…

And he was right. Her eyes rolled and lids closed, before she leaned towards the edge of the bed. This posed as a threat to him, and so he caught her before she could break something. Really, most woman wouldn't mind sleeping with Reaver… or at least get a shag with him.

Positioning her underneath the covers, he himself took most of the blankets to warm himself with. If she got cold, two things would happen. One; She'd pull for the blankets, or two: She'd snuggle up to him. He didn't mind for number two, but if she planed on number one, well… It wasn't going to happen… They were his covers, after all.

Upon morning, Reaver woke up feeling as young as ever. He chuckled at the thought, and got up from his bed. Placing his elegant clothes on his chiseled vivacious body. Oh, what wasn't there to like about Reaver? He licked his thumb, straightening out his eyebrows and little patch of facial hair on his chin. He picked up a comb, and with one sweep, he perfected his… perfection, to say the least. In Reaver's blue eyes, he was perfect. There is nothing in the world he can't have, so he thought.

Looking down at the sleeping figure on his bed, the bland morning sun peeked over the horizon to cast light on her pale skin. It was just as flawless as his, but milky and tranquil. Her closed eyes flaunted her long lashes, and he couldn't help but… wonder about her sometimes.

After Lucien had shot her for a second time, her youth must've been restored from being revived. He couldn't help but think she was blessed by some higher beings. Maybe he really could keep her. If not as a wife, at least as a good luck charm… Sparrow was truly heaven sent, because she always seems to pop up at the most opportune moment.

This thumb began to caress the hilt of his gun as he eyed her, trying to fish out a proper word to explain what he was feeling right now… Hmm… He hadn't felt this way for quite a while… Oh, yes. He coveted her, to just a large extent. Yes, it was the green-eyed monster; Envy.

"Delirious wench…" He whispered as he turned his back on her, strolling out of his quarters.

After he was gone, Sparrow was left to slumber in his bed. She rolled and tossed, beginning to wrap herself tightly in lush red covers. Mm, she felt so much better sleeping here. Shuddering, her eyes snapped open from her dreamless sleep and looked around the room… She was alone.

She was alone… She was so happy to alone for once. Sparrow thought she'd lose her mind if she had Reaver as company any longer. That man, she thought, would never cooperate with her about anything.

Suddenly, she felt her skin prickle.

"_Imagine what your husband would say if he heard about you remarrying…"_

"Shut up!" Sparrow said sharply, unsure of who or what she was talking about. "Who are you?"

"_Oh, you know me… and I know you well enough. Yes, you're a spitting image of the others…"_

"What others?"

"_Just your family."_ There came a sinister yet charming chuckle that echoed through the room. _"You have your mother's eyes, __**Hero**__."_

"It gives you no right to speak of my husband, or anyone else. Where are you?"

"… I'm everywhere. I'm nowhere… You know exactly where I am. Don't try to act like you don't know."

Sparrow paused, staying still as she came across a thought. Her hand steadily reached into her bag of items, and dug out her mask. Carelessly letting the bag land on the floor, she held the mask in both hands now, staring through the eyeholes. She mouthed the words...

"Jack of Blades."

"_That's right... So glad that you've taken me with you on your little trip."_

"This mask holds your soul…?"

"…_You could say that…"_

"So I'm not really going crazy…" The mask didn't intimidate Sparrow, but of course she was going to be as careful as possible. Connor lost an eye to this mask, from what she understood… Though she couldn't really believe it. "Jack of Blades." She finally voiced.

"_Poor little Sparrow… It must be hard being The Heroine of Albion…"_ Sparrow shook her head no, seeming unimpressed. _"Oh? That's not so? What's this about a husband and child—"_

"It's in the past… Don't bring them up."

"_But it's not really in the past, is it? It's holding you back from being happily married, is it not?"_

"Reaver isn't exactly the ideal husband… He's not loyal, let alone loving. That beast doesn't own a heart." Funny, he had enough money for everything, but a heart. Sparrow left that subject alone, not wanting to think about him… Then realized, why was she talking to an unholy abomination? "Enough of this. Be quiet. It's back in the bag for you—"

"_You're not interested about what I have to say?"_ He asked as he was placed in the bag again. Sparrow would've ignored his question… if she weren't the least bit curious. _"Dear Sparrow, It must be horrible to get married to such a man."_

She raised a brow, listening.

"_Imagine a world without Reaver. Oakvale would be restored completely…"_

"No more. I don't like where this is going."

"_Oh? But what's to stop you? You'd be doing Albion a favor, wouldn't you?"_

"… He's my friend…" Sparrow said quietly, earning another malicious laugh from the mask. "… and I'm not going to give in to a fiend's temptation."

"_You still have much to learn, little Sparrow."_ Sparrow could neither agree nor disagree with what he said, so she just stayed silent, not wanting to speak any longer.

Thin fingers wrapped around and handle and pulled, seeing the many pirates hustle around the deck. They were wrapping up the sails and the likes. Yes, they were at Bloodstone, and Reaver's voice shouted orders. Do this, do that… Hmph, he sounded like a spoiled boy who wouldn't take no for an answer. Oh, wait, he was. That's right.

"Good morning, _lover_." Reaver said after he came down the stairs, now on the same level as Sparrow. The heroine laughed. It was the particular laugh that was enough to crush the normal mans hopes, but Reaver was way too determined for his own good. He reached out to cup her chin, but it was instantly slapped away.

"Keep your hands to yourself, grubby pirate." Instantly, dirty looks were shot her way from other pirates, yet Reaver remained cool. "I'm not your trinket."

"Mm, you will be apart of the collection, though."

"No, I won't." Sparrow said, instantly rejecting him. Reaver chucked and shook his head as the pirates wrapped things up. A man set the wooden plank down to give a proper walk way for Reaver to use to get off his treasured ship… "Don't believe me, do you?"

"We had this conversation before…"

Sparrow took note of the possible exists, and smirked deviously… making Reaver instantly question this sudden change. The crew looked at the hold up and also raised a brow to this… Calmly, she walked to the edge of the ship with her hands behind her back, seeming innocent.

"What are you planning?" Reaver asked. Sparrow didn't answer, only smiled. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it now. It's not time for games—"

"Reaver, I don't think it's going to work out." The look on his face was priceless, as she vaulted off the side of the ship. The men all scurried to the edge, seeing her disappear beneath the water, bubbles coming to the surface. Reaver's face went red, and he gritted his teeth with fury as he went ballistic.

Fire burned in his blue eyes…

"Go after her, you idiots! Go, _**now**_!" Reaver shouted as he clenched his fists in a fit of rage. Sparrow herself, didn't hear a thing. She was too busy pulling herself under the ship. It seemed like she just might lose the air in her lungs if she wasted one second in hesitation.

Not to mention, she was blind. She kept going until she felt her hands it the bay's floor, gripping the slippery rocks that was possibly covered in green strange slime.

She went fast, trying to ignore the burning in her suffocating lungs. She had to hold on. If they caught sight of her, they'd go after her in a heartbeat. Maybe Reaver would be so angry as to shoot her down… but if he were Sparrow, he'd do the same…

… Okay, maybe not…

Hitting her head, what little air she had left was gone, escaping her mouth in bubbles. She scrambled for the surface now. It was too much now. If she really did try to make it without air at this point, her lungs would fill up with water.

She pushed through the surface and gasped, looking around in utter dread as she felt herself fill with life… but she feared being discovered. Looking back, she saw that she was on the far side of the other bay. They didn't realize she had actually swam right under them…!

She started laughing hysterically as she pattled backwards, still watching them in amuse meant. For the moment, she was in the clear. Pulling herself out of the water when coming to an empty dock, she started her way out of Bloodstone.

Sparrow made it… Sparrow made it. Sparrow tricked the King of Thieves… She tricked the trickster!

"_I suppose you think you're clever now…"_ Came Jacks voice as she began to walk up the only exit out of Bloodstone.

"Birds don't belong in cages, Jack." Sparrow said as she shivered. She was soaking wet, but it was worth it. So long as Reaver won't find her… though, she couldn't help but think that he'd be on her tail again, soon enough. No doubt about that She just had to make sure to throw the scent off her trail, but she'd worry about it later. Right now, there weren't any more bright ideas in her head.

"_You know it's just a matter of time before he's got you within his sights…"_

"Yeah… I also know that if anyone catches me talking to myself, they'll start calling me insane."

"_Where are you going to do now, hero?"_

"… I don't know." She replied, earning a dark laugh from the mask, and she could clearly see why. Then an idea came to mind. "I'm doing to do what I told Connor I'd do." Silence instantly followed. Oh, so Jack didn't feel like talking anymore? Well, at least she'd get some peace and quiet.


	13. Chapter 13

**This chapter is the average four pages. Sorry it couldn't be more. There is a lot of dialogue, I know, but I promise there will be a lot of action in the future. Eheheh. It's really hard to stay hooked and focused when the boring parts set in, but I decided to… throw someone into the mix. Things are going to liven up in the next one.**

**I don't own any characters, except for my own that I created and I don't own any rights to the Saga either.**

**Chapter Thirteen**

There Should Be A Law

"So, how did you come to find out about me? You couldn't be eavesdropping on conversations the whole time, have you? Ugh, just like Connor…"

"_Connor is a very pitiful fool. Once known as Bounty Hunter. His days of glory are long gone, of course… Though, you've barely reached your prime."_

Sparrow raised a brow, feeling a little annoyed. What did he mean by prime? Well, if he meant her career in being a Hero, then Sparrow's prime peaked when she made The Choice in Theresa's Spire. Oh, how she hated that woman so… She felt as if she could just rant her way back to Bowerstone, depending on if Jack would get a chance to speak… but she didn't bother with that.

"You. Tell me everything you know."

"_All in good time. You'll come to find out…"_

"Well, hopefully when before I end up destroying you."

"_I cannot be destroyed… You can't kill that which has no life, __**hero**__."_ Sparrow felt a chill come up and down her spine as she thought of what he said. He wasn't alive, right… he was just like whisps.

"Right, I guess that's true to an extent… but what can you tell me right now?"

"… _If you're looking to destroy me, you'll have to destroy the other two."_

"There are more?"

"_I carried my other two masks with me on my attire… I'd flaunt them on my left shoulder… as if showing a __**trophy**__."_

"Are you mocking me?" Sparrow snapped, thinking it would be best to take a break. She sat herself down on the side of the path, finding the doom and gloom of Wraithmarsh wasn't as bad as it could be… although, she would've hated to see the villagers die that particular day due to The Shadow Court.

"_No, no... Not __**mocking**__."_ Jack chuckled. Sparrow brought the mask out of the bag, and turned it faced-down… imagining what would happen if she were to… _"… __**Wear**__ me…!"_

She gave a sudden shudder as she felt the masks texture on the inside.

"_Wear me, and together we could save this pitiful land called Albion. Wear me…!"_

Sparrow raised the mask closer, looking through the eyeholes of the mask. She was tempted, very tempted… but no. She paused, and instead, placed the mask down on the ground, faced-up.

"You're a demented soul, Jack… I don't think I'd like the idea of working together…" Sparrow said, taking out a small needle with thread. "A deranged… demented lost soul."

"_Calling the kettle black."_ He replied, to which Sparrow ignored and removed her short cloak. As she draped it on her knees, before fixing the thread through the needle hole and picked up the mask. _"… Ohh, I see—"_

"Don't say a word, Jack. I don't care for your mindless babbling unless you're telling me something informative and useful."

"_Hmm… Would you like to know of where the other two are?"_

"Yes, I would."

"_One… is in Reaver's possession."_ Ahh, that makes a lot of sense… _"The other… has yet to be discovered, but it's in the heart of the guild... You know, it was so lonely—"_

"Yeah, yeah. So, what really happened to the guild?"

"_Before your time, there was… a man. He ran the guild, earning him the name of Guild Master."_ Yes, she heard of the Guild Master's death inside of a book once. Jack gave a malicious laugh, before continuing. _"He trained boys to become men, and men to become… heroes… One day, these heroes proved to have bad intentions. The people of Albion shunned all from The Guild, and they became a dying bred. Like you, Sparrow…"_

"Go on. How did the Guild Master die?"

"_Within the heart of The Guild, that old fool finally met his match."_ Jack paused and gave another chilling laughter. _"I remember the mess I left it in, and even the words I carved on his forehead—"_

Sparrow trembled, and sneered as the needle pricked her finger.

"… Something else. Tell me something else." Sparrow said, bringing up her thumb to suck on, making Jack chuckle.

"_Ohh, Sparrow. Do you know who your ancestors were? I can tell you everything… Who mentored them, who their best friend was…"_

"Anything."

"_The Hero of Oakvale, now Wraithmarsh, is the one I'm most familiar with…"_

"Before Reaver? Did you kill him, too?!" Sparrow asked, shaking at the thought of being one on his list. "You did—didn't you?"

"_Hmhm… No. Before I could make my return, he vanished. I still haven't found his grave, either… Don't worry, I'm not going to be digging a knife into your back any time soon, Hero."_ Jack said, before gasping with delight. _"I always called him that. Hero. I suppose he hasn't made the pact, unlike his sister… but her existence is gone… Well, almost… but she won't be a problem."_

"… How long ago is this?"

"_Over centuries ago… Quite long ago, yes…"_

"… She's still alive?"

"… _Well, she made a pact. She is, in fact, immortal."_ Jack said, sounding oh so casually. Sparrow took the thread to her mouth and bit, finishing with her craft. She could hear the smile in his tone. _"Much like that Reaver fellow, but she didn't give up her town for it. Yes, she's still alive… but not the same person she used to be."_

"Do you think she'd know me? Do you think she'd—… I don't know…!"

"_Treat you like a grand daughter? Doubtful… She's changed too much. Such an impassive soul."_

"Impassive…" Sparrow repeated, before the sound of a gunshot snapped through out the stale air. It made Sparrow freeze completely, believing it could be Reaver… but no. If it were Reaver, he'd be ranting and raving, wouldn't he?

A roar from a crazed balverine followed shortly after, before a second roar went against the beasts. Obviously, this battle cry belonged to no _man_… It was shrill and piercing, yet paralyzing. Quickly putting on her cloak, she got up dashed further down the path. Balverines weren't the easiest things to defeat… especially alone.

The sound of grunts and husky growls and howls were getting closer.

"_What do you think you're doing?"_

"I'm going to help."

"Still so much to learn… Let me know when you

Sparrow ran down—down by the reeds—and stopped as she spotted a woman lashing out on a balverine. How strange, because the furry beast seemed like it didn't have a chance. As the beast fell back after one fatal slash, it howled loudly into the night, before going limp. The woman stared down at the corpse, breathing heavily. Then she turned and spotted Sparrow staring at her oddly.

The intense green eyes were almost like… a felines eyes. Dangerous and narrow feline eyes came to lie upon the Heroine. Not only were her eyes striking, but so was her other features. A good set of cheekbones, a sharp chin and body shaped like an hourglass.

"Look out—" Sparrow said, whipping her gun out of it's holster and firing it away at the tall skeleton figure that had raised it's cleaver to slash the strange woman.

As the bullet was fire, the girl ducked and the bones dispersed on impact. Standing up right, they stared at each other… Quite awkward… Sparrow smiled, and was surprised she didn't get one in return.

The woman who she just saved was aiming at her with a pistol as well.

… Sparrow never hated guns so much before in her life.


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay, I know some of you guys are wondering, but I've said it before and I'll say it again; Garth WILL be appearing in the story soon. If you're wondering where he's at—how can I say it without giving it all away… um…--he's still in Summarkand… but he's doing… **_**research**_**… I can't say anymore than that, I'm sorry! And no, this will not be a Reaver fanfic. Ugh, I hate him!**

**Sheesh people, patience is a virtue… erm… Yeah, that's right… No, wait—okay, all I'm saying is just be patient. XD**

**One more thing I should mention. I convinced someone to read over my previous chapter and edit all my mistakes that I've missed. Soon, I'll re-upload all chapters for my readers. Hopefully she'll teach me a few things, as well.**

**I don't own any characters, except for my own that I created and I don't own any rights to the Saga either.**

**Chapter Fourteen**

The Fox & The Hound

"Hey, I just saved your life!"

"Doesn't mean a thing." The younger woman said, flipping her black hair out of her line of sight, without taking her eyes off of Sparrow. Sparrow had no choice but to keep her gun aimed at the other girl.

"Okay, lets not get over excited… What's your name?"

"Victoria "Vixen" Nightingale. Ring a bell?"

"No… To be honest, not really." Sparrow said flatly, earning a glare from the so-called "Vixen" and shrugged.

"Well, go on. What's your name?"

"I… have a lot… Sparrow is what they call me most often." She said, taking her hood off in hopes she'd be recognizable. Victoria lowered her gun slightly, and her glare faded. "… I have some statues of me around Albion—"

"I know who you are… I can't say that I'm sure of whether or not I want to kill you or not."

"How about we help each other out, at least until we get to Westcliff?"

**--And so, for the sake of my readers asking, "When is Garth going to come in?"**

Summarkand, a land of "uninhabited people" and so-called "exotic substances."

Upon venturing through out his home land, Garth had came to discover that there were no Culis Gates that could take him back to Albion. It would take too much time, and he wouldn't be able to gain his Will back in time to fend himself from possibly awaiting enemies.

Though, he did get time to visit family—well—not biological family, but close enough.

The days were quite hot, and cool by nightfall. Markets were packed at almost all hours, bringing out the residents of the land in hopes of buying and selling needs and wants. Yes, while he was gone from this land, it flourished quite a lot. Garth wasn't one to talk very much, but the changes in the land would take him a while to describe. Oh yes, Garth had a wide vocabulary, thankfully.

As he walked into a bookstore, he gave a friendly passing-wave as he walked over to a bookshelf. He wasn't looking for anything in particular. Anything that caught his eye would be what he'd purchase. As he scanned, he came across interesting titles. Some amusing, some far too bland, even for Garth.

(I imagine that Samarkand has their own language, so I'm just going to "translate" things to English…)

The Worldly Orthodox by Uthius Mang. Shadow's Concoction by Jav Zarai… The Court & The Archon.

Instantly, Garth pulled it off the shelf. His hands felt the old texture, and was amazed that they were selling this exact book, even though it wasn't written in Summarkands common language. He swallowed thickly. Garth had read very much about the Old Kingdom, but never had hear heard much about the rulers and how they came to be.

Feeling the need to open it right away, he paused and looked through more bookshelves. Best to snuff out all that could be linked with the Old Kingdom. How strange that the information was scattered, even so far as to distant lands.

Then he paused. Speaking of distant lands, he wondered how Sparrow was doing… No doubt she was keeping it free from chaos. Speaking of chaos, he wondered what devious things Reaver was up to. He seemed to have disappeared. The last time Garth saw the pirate was when he headed up to the mountains of Summarkand, far up North. Quite a while ago, in fact.

Then Hammer… Well, he had little to say about any of them but Sparrow, though he had his doubts about her at first. Hammer seemed to not trust Garth. Garth of all people! Reaver, on the other hand, deserved no trust, what so ever…

How amusing. Out of all the people he's ever known, Theresa and Sparrow are the closest he had to friends. Even so, he still can't trust them… He learned after trusting someone too well. Garth even witnessed slaves in the Spire leap to their death.

He couldn't help but feel torn at the thought… Oh, but that's right. They've all returned home by now, thanks to someone's wish.

"Is this all?"

"Yes, this is all I'll be buying today." Said the the Master of Will as he set it down on the counter. Wonder what quests she's been doing since he's left…

**Meanwhile…**

A sneeze came out of the Heroine of Albion as she treaded through the swamp. It was scary. Nothing but Hollowmen everywhere… Though when she came to a flooded and dank area of the swamp, she almost wanted to tell Victoria to go first… but no, that wouldn't be very Hero-like.

Feeling her gut turn and twist, she went passed the gate and chills ran up her spine as she saw a white ghostly figure.

"Banshee…" Sparrow whispered, and it turned around, facing the two women. She hated these. They knew exactly what to say, and how to say it, just so that they could cut you to the core. As five glowing little blue orbs left it's unseen mouth, Sparrow unsheathed her sword, as did Vixen.

"_It's all over,"_ Breathed the snow-white Banshee. _"you will meet The Void and cease to exist… __**completely**__."_

Little black children came out of the shallow sickening waters, equipped with blades and cleavers that just made Sparrow's skin crawl every time she saw them. Sparrow knocked them over with one swift slash, as Vixen herself watched Sparrow's back.

"Why do you think you continue to cheat death? Not even oblivion wants you!"

Another chill crawled up her spine, like a spider walking across her web. Another slash was given to the ankle biters as the Banshee came closer.

"_Your pure soul will suffer just as much as a corrupt one."_

Shut up, Sparrow thought. What would a fiend of the darkness know about anything? Just a bun of rubbish… Another slash and the child died at Sparrow's feet. It always hurt her to get rid of them. To think, they were only children when they died…

"_You know it's your fault that your sister is __**dead**__!"_

Sparrow gritted her teeth and whipped out her pistol. Before she could pull the trigger, or even aim, there came a loud bang that made Sparrow jump. The banshee died that very instant. She looked over her shoulder, seeing that Vixen still had her gun in her holster… Then farther up the path they walked down, and spotted the very man who she hated.

Dashing forward, she didn't want Reaver to get a glimpse of her, not even a flash… though it was inevitable. A gunman's eye was faster than the bullets he fired. This, Sparrow had learned, as another bullet was fired, and she heard something whiz by her, and that sound made her instantly forget about Victoria.

"Hah! You missed!" Sparrow said as she dashed into the fog, hoping that she could disappear before it became clear. Touching the Culis Gate, she shut her eyes tight and felt that strange feeling... That exact feeling that one gets when they kiss another, and they feel like their memory skips.

That's just a petty little example, of course…

When she opened her eyes, she was at Garth's Tower. Nay, the Tower that Garth used to own. It was on sale now, since the owner left… She wondered if her home in Bowerstone Old Town was for sale…

Snapping out quickly, she stumbled away from the Culis Gate and her heart stopped. What if Reaver came through that gate…? Would Victoria make it…? Reaver wouldn't kill her, would he…?

Heavy guilt came over her, and she waited in silence…

… before a figure was formed in the bright light of the Culis Gate. A womanly figure, though Reaver could pass as womanly as well, but regardless.

"You left me behind!"

"Step back—"

"Some Hero you turned out to be!"

"Step back, I said!"

Sparrow never was a Will expert, but if there was a way to turn on a Culis Gate, there was a way to turn it off. Bringing her hands together, she attempted to charge up her lightening. It wasn't easy. She had to put complete focus into it, which explains how Garth spent ten years trying to get the damn collar's off in the Spire… but this shouldn't have to take as much.

Thin lightening bolts were forged within her fingertips, and her stomach turned and lurched compulsively as she focused on the Culis Gate… Surely, not much longer… She could do this…! Sparrow can do this…!

Releasing, the Culis Gate began to glow violently before discharged lightening struck it, and this caused it to disrupt its performance, forcing it to shut down.

"… I just saved you, I hope you know that."

"That's great and all, but what are you going to do about the guards?"

"Guards?!"


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimers and such. Enjoy. Oh, and I'll be busy Saturday, and possibly Monday, so I hope no one will be disappointed if I don't update. I'll try, but you know, it all depends. Eheh! Enjoy. Oh, and one more thing. Garth will be coming home soon, just so you know. =)**

**Chapter Fifteen**

O Castitatis Lilium

"It'll only hurt for a moment—augh!"

Sparrow sneered as she stabbed her way through barrage after barrage of spire guards. They were revived as well? Oh, there's always some sort of catch to things, isn't there?!

Gritting her teeth, she pushed through the many guards. Those uniforms, she once wore. Shaved her head clean and those horrible obedience lessons. It fueled her with such energy and rage. She could throw a fit at this point. A growl tore its way out of her throat as she ripped her sword straight through the next one, and with one foul slash did the next one in… They were all gone. Every single one, now lifeless at her feet…

"You did a very good job of helping me."

"_Oh yes, very good job. I almost didn't recognize you with the bloodlust in your eye."_

"Did you hear something?"

"No!" Sparrow snapped, before covering her mouth and cleared her throat. "No, I didn't hear anything."

"Right… In that case, I'll be leaving." Vixen said, somewhat offended by the tone. "Next time we meet, you should watch out. I might hurt you, depending how I'm feeling that particular day…"

"I'll try not to get in your way, then." Sparrow murmured, deciding that it was best to leave it at that. Strangers and such were so… well… strange. She didn't want to come across that girl again, for sake of Sparrow losing something to a crafty pickpocket. She seemed to be a bandit, but didn't really care to stick with a pack…

Walking into his tower, she walked up the flight of stairs and into his study. The room that was laced with fire, the very balcony he stood in before he was teleported to The Spire.

"_Mind explaining to me where we are?"_

"I thought you knew everything…" Sparrow snarkily replied. This earned nothing but a quiet hiss from the mask. "Sorry, but it's come to my attention that it's best this way. If you don't know where we are, then maybe Reaver's mask won't know where I am. See?"

"_He'll find you… Sooner than you think."_ He hissed, and Sparrow ignored the masks little piece of information. She didn't want to risk herself being discovered.

Suddenly, a thought came to her.

"Why is he coming after me? What would he do with you?"

"Possibly just add me to his fine collection of priceless items…"

"Is that all?" Sparrow asked, unsure of whether he was giving her the whole truth or not. Jack didn't answer, and Sparrow left it at that. She wasn't going to keep asking if he wasn't going to answer. She'll just be cautious about where she takes the man.

Well, there should be useful information here. Though, he has such a wide selection of books. All just so happen to be on The Old Kingdom. What a _coincidence_.

She'd be here for weeks. Maybe even months, but surely it would be worth the time. Hopefully Garth won't mind. Hmm… wonder what he was doing right now…

"_Quite the scholar, eh?" _Jack asked, his words gripping her out of all thought. She blinked, realizing she was staring down at his desk, as if something would pop out and command she read it.

"Haha. He's a bookworm indeed…"

"_A friend of yours?"_

"You know, I honestly don't know where we stand, but I believe he has a very good heart."

"_So you say…"_ Jack whispered, before she shunned the words out of her mind. Little Sparrow pulled the chair out and sat down, looking over the last book he read before he left on his trip. Her fingers looked at the writing and tilted her head. This was written in a totally different language. Sparrow's jaw dropped_. "Having difficulties?"_

Jack's voice made her feel silly and foolish. Covering her face, she rubbed her temples a bit. She didn't want to directly admit that… she couldn't read it. Hell, she could read books from Albion, but anything else was just too much. Humiliated, she gave a nod.

"_Well, as far as I can see, there isn't anything particularly useful in this one…"_

"You can read it…?"

"_Oh, I mastered every language known to man. Even the __**dead**__ ones…"_

"Wait… You know, I'm trying to find a way to destroy you…" Sparrow didn't get an answer, just a little laugh from Jack. "So, unless it's the truth, just don't say anything. Just… be quiet, like a good trophy."

"_Trophy, she says…"_

Ignoring his mumbles, she closed the book and looked at the title of other books. Sighing, she rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. Well, she wouldn't mind reading…

She ended up being cooped up in the tower, for quite some time. She didn't keep track, no. Sparrow became quite engrossed with research. Not just facts about masks and Old Kingdom artifacts, but the Old Kingdom in general. In fact, she only left the tower when she was hungry, or needed to cleanse herself.

Strangely enough, she didn't catch wind of any trouble. Her absence from Albion went on un-noticed… Occasionally, there would be threats. Like a Shard, Commandant or Spire Guard. But try as they might, they did not prevail victoriously.

Now, with nothing but enemies to keep her distracted, she slowly tuned the world out. The outside was nothing but a dull white noise. Upon her trips back and forth to Bowerstone Market, she managed to update some equipment, such as clothing. Now, instead of brown leather, a black metal covered her arms and legs. At her fingertips were sharp points, made to harm anything that came near. Little did she know what kind of scary being she was becoming.

Away from the sunlight in the shadows of her hood, her hair was turning to a dull blonde. Until finally the original brown it was the day she first left the gypsy camp. Sparrow's eyes were still the same haunting bright blue, though. Her eyes were still bright, even in the dark shadow that was cast over her face.

Upon one particular day of going to the tower, she paused and over looked Bower Lake. Sometimes, she was there for hours at a time. Sparrow either stared at the grave that stated her companion's previous existence, or she stared at the small entrance of the abandoned Guild. That is where the third mask would be… but she didn't think she could handle two Jacks. One was enough of a bother…

The tune of the music box played within her mind, soft and serene. It was the song of her life, the theme of her story, yet it held no lyrics. None that she knew of, to say the least. Sparrow was glad that Jack stayed silent during the moment she stayed. Of course, maybe he was being polite, or maybe he was trying to decode every movement and expression she made. Maybe he tried to read her during times like these… maybe he was thinking precise specific things. Maybe Jacks mind worked faster than hers. Sparrow was not sure, but it made her think a lot. Was he playing a game? Could he possibly be plotting out all she does, and trying to measure each second spent on something. Testing the waters, so to speak.

She frowned at the thought, but turned and began to leave the view of Bower Lake, with hopes of leaving those troubling thoughts behind, but to no avail. It was troubling, to always be thinking. Thinking all of the time, each thought provoking another. Bringing up more questions, to which she could not find a proper answer. This was too hard to do alone.

As she reached to peek of the tower, she sat down to turn a page. She wasn't even half way through the books he had, and her brain already felt like mush. Reading the words that lay before her, she held her blank expression with ease. Jack hadn't spoken in a while, which was the reason why he broke her concentration abruptly—

"_You're never going to get rid of me. You know this, don't you?"_

"You're not very helpful nor useful, so I'd just be quiet."

"_Mm… You know, even the Archon couldn't really get rid of me… maybe dispose of the others, but not me… I'm Jack of Blades."_

"Do you tell me this because you're bored, or because you feel threatened?" Sparrow asked, not at all moved by his words. What did Jack know? A lot has changed since he made an appearance in Albion. She wasn't going to listen to this rambling oaf. "Really, you should just be quiet unless you have something useful to tell me."

"_There are better things you could find in these books… I noticed a book here that's written in an ancient text, but it explains how to __**regain a lost one**__."_ Sparrow didn't reply, for she didn't want to be tricked… but it did interest her. _"Though, you're looking for destruction, not life… I'll just do as I'm told and be quiet then…"_

"Which book was it?"

"_Curiosity snatches you away that quickly, does it?"_

"I just want to know what it says…" Sparrow whispered, before she placed a bookmark where she left off and closed the book. Was this a test? Was he trying to get to her? Questions, questions… Only one way to really find out, wasn't there? "Tell me, which book…"


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimers and such. Hopefully this will satisfy some of you. Hey, 16****th**** chapter on the 16****th**** day on January!**

**Chapter Sixteen**

Homecoming For The Hero

Humming a strange new tune she made up, she turned a blind eye to the world outside. Sparrow was currently trying to read the ancient language, refusing to give up on the possibility of regaining loved ones. If anything, she'd try to bring her dog back. At least… At least… At least her companion… At least…

Sparrow fell silent when Jack would speak to her. She wanted to learn as much as she could. It would prove useful. Jack explained to her what one symbol meant, and which were numbers and the likes. He read to her, if it got to difficult.

Though Sparrow failed to sense Jack's motive, of course.

As Sparrow tried to read the words Jack spoke in ancient language, she was soon beginning to understand the words in front of her. Though, she stayed up during the night, and only slept at the desk in the uncomfortable chair. Yes, she could. She could sleep in Garth's bed. She did, once or twice, but now walking down the stairs seemed to feel like a hassle.

Jack's voice became… as familiar as her own heart beat, strangely enough. Her mind was growing accustomed to hearing his voice. It was routine, like waking up and combing your hair, or breathing. Jack was no stranger to Sparrow, yet at the same time, he was.

It came to a point, where Jack was discussing their similarities, and she listened.

… It was the fourth week of reading nothing but ancient riddles and talk of The Spire. The Spire was out of the question. She had already used up her wish. She needed to find a new way. A way that wouldn't cost Albion dozens of lives, that's what she was aiming for.

Now and then, Jack did offer Sparrow something like a deal, but she didn't listen. She was going to destroy the mask, some how. She just didn't know how she was going to go about that yet.

It was when she came down from her stairs to rest until evening. Strange when said, but Sparrow now slept ad midnight, and woke up when the sun reached it's highest peek during the day. It was a bad thing, she knew this, but she didn't care. No, no, she was too busy thinking of all the possibilities. Wondering how she could bring them back… Also wondering what they would discuss.

When she woke up that particular day, she was under the impression the impression that time was running out. What if Reaver came back around?! It was then that she calmed herself and began walking up the stairs to Garth's desk, reminding herself that nothing bad was going to happen hear.

Passing the Culis Gate she had broken, she pursed her lips and raised a brow. Well, Garth wouldn't be happy about that, would he? It doesn't matter, he could find another way to get back to his tower. Couldn't hurt for him to walk now and then.

Standing at the balcony that over looked Brightwood, she sighed and tried to keep her eyes open. Wake up, Sparrow. Rise and shine. The sun is up, and you should be up as well.

Suddenly, the sound of gunfire cracked the innocence of the bright day, bringing Sparrow wide-awake. The Heroine rolled her eyes and began to dash back down the long annoying flight of stairs. She just walked up these stairs, now she has to go all the way back down.

After the last flight of stairs, she stumbled back at the sight of fierce lightening dashing across her vision. Her body was untouched, but Sparrow felt paralyzed. Another Will user...!?

"There is nothing for you here!" A bold and loud voice shouted, making Sparrow eyes go wide. "Leave!"

Sparrow blinked, and stared at the Spire Guard that fell to the ground in front of her, spasming violently as blue streaks of lightening attacked him just as viciously. He gave a scream of agony, and stared at the Will user. Wow… Wow! He really came back!

Well… It was his home, so he had to come back around eventually—but regardless—he was here!

"I'll be damned! Garth!" Sparrow said, announcing her presence to him. He turned to acknowledge her, very surprised to see a strange-cloaked figure at his residence. He raised his white eyebrow. That's when she suddenly pulled her hood down to expose her face, realizing he wouldn't recognize her with it on. "I didn't think you would really come around to Albion for a really long time!"

"… Sparrow." Garth stated, now seeming less threatening with a calm smile on his expression. "Well, this is my home. I have to come to check if it's being taken care of… How long have you been here?"

"I don't remember. It's not important. What is important is that you're here! I need help with a few things…"

Garth was dragged up into his study by force, not even getting the chance to set his things down. He didn't mind, he was curious about what she needed help with, but didn't so much like the whole rush she used on him. As he was guided up the stairs by his arm, their conversation was brief and light.

"What inspired your new wardrobe?" Garth said, cringing as he felt the sharp metal fingertips dig into his flesh. It wasn't enough to bleed, but it still hurt… He didn't mention it, though.

"It doesn't matter. It's mysterious, isn't it? That's what I was going for, really…" Sparrow said, not seeming very focused with the conversation, because she kept jumping from one topic to the next. "I've been protecting your tower. You know that?"

"I was wondering what happened to my Culis Gate."

"Uhh… Yeaah…" Sparrow drifted off, not wanting to get into that. "So, Summarkand! How was it?"

"Very promising." Garth said, gripping his book in his free hand. "So you've been here since… how long?"

"Oh, not very long… I've been to Snowspire! You know about Snowspire, don't you?"

Sparrow had brought Garth up to his studies, but when the chairs were pulled up to Garth's desk, she got slightly distracted. She was so glad to finally meet someone who wasn't completely… stupid or ignorant!

"How was it in Summarkand? Did you bring back anything?"

"I did, yes. Nothing that would really interest you, though."

"Come on." Sparrow said, a sudden smile popping onto her features. "Show me something. Anything."

Garth thought maybe showing her the book would be something interesting, but not right now. Books would seem boring to the ordinary woman. Now that he thought about it, he should've gotten something for her… Or, something more than herbs, potions and books…

Oh, that's right.

He pulled out a small little bracelet he was given—for free—while he was going through out the market place. A peasant woman who mistook him for someone else gave it to him. She gave him two before she started wondering off. Yes, every town had its crazies…

When pulling them out of his pocket, Sparrows eyes spotted the odd foreign design. It seemed to have natural colors. Dull greens and light browns, also what seemed like to be many sharp teeth. (Imagine a very African feel with a side of Asia. XD)

"Summarkand jewelry?"

"Yes, although of poor quality…" Garth said, gently placing them down on his desk, not really caring for them much. Sparrow grinned with a cocky feel. Those bracelets couldn't talk, could they? Garth did notice it, and brought it to attention. "Is that a souvenir of yours?"

"Yes… I found it in Snowspire."

"Looks--…" Garth paused, trying to capture the correct words, even though it was an odd mask, and an even stranger place to put it. "—interesting enough."

"Mmhm." Sparrow said quietly, her grin still wide as ever. He really did come back. Well, to Albion, at least. "You know, Hammer is working with the monks in Snowspire. I don't know if you knew about that, but just thought I should share. I visited her."

"Just what exactly possessed you to go to Snowspire in the first place?"

"… I don't know." Sparrow said quietly, not wanting to tell him about Connor for some odd reason. Garth arched an elegant brow and left it at that. "I was just wondering, is there anything you can tell me about destroying… Old Kingdom artifacts? Artifacts that are not at all like the shards…"

"Then… what kind of artifact are you talking about?"

"Umm… Possessed Old Kingdom artifacts."

**I just realized something. I leave off at horrible places. Eheheh… Sorry…**


	17. Chapter 17

**LO AND BEHOLD. I've successfully uploaded it. This isn't what I have on my OTHER laptop, but I hope you'll like it all the same. The first 3/4 of it is what I had before the track pad died, so I hope you all enjoy it. No, seriously. Enjoy this, because this is like lightening striking twice for me. Anyway, I'm a little happy that I had forced it out, even though it was—indeed—forced… But I was willing…**

**Heehee. I guess nothing comes easily. Now that I think of it, what if they gave me my computer back, and like, deleted my story. Everything. What if?! I would've been sooooo angry, that's what.**

**Chapter Seventeen**

It Has Only Begun

"Our new God has come!" A man shouted, running down the stairs to The Temple of Shadows. "He has come to us, in the shape of an _object of disguise_…!"

The Temple of Shadows is exactly what one would imagine it to be. It's dark, it's dank, and it possesses an overwhelming sense of doom. Those who worship such a place were oblivious to what the shadows had in store. Nay, they were naïve to all they praised… but they were loyal. At least, to an extent. Then again, their loyalty was nothing compared to their cowardice. They were only pawns, of course…

The shadow monk had come to the bottom of the staircase to present an object to the small crowd of men who also worshiped the shadows. The monk wielding the item raised it above his head to show to all, and the on-lookers dropped to their knees, knowing it best not to speak out in front of an object of great power.

Everyone hushed instantly, waiting for it to speak.

"Fellow servants of the shadows… I have come in the absence of your shadow God. The very God who was destroyed by the single hand of a hero who slain him some time ago." There was a pause as some slowly peered from their hoods in disbelief. "Your God who you all once worshiped was _weak and pathetic_! He was feeble, but I am powerful. The Gods _**envy**_ me!"

Some men quivered, not expecting their religion to be so… so… so much more than what they bargained for.

"Those who do not convert to me will suffer… and will never live to see the day when retaliation takes its toll on The Heroine of Albion." Men trembled now, unable to stand so they could take off running, so instead they placed their hands on the ground, in a desperate attempt to praise their new God. The one holding the object of power within his hands trembled as well, but then the item spoke to him. "_**Wear me!**_ Together, the Gods will be of no match to The Divine Plan."

The weak man did as ordered, and at a slow pace, delicately placed the mask upon his face.

An agonizing scream followed as the mask burned the man's skin, searing itself onto him with great blistering heat. The man did not fall to his knees, though. Nay. His screams soon stopped, and though steam surrounded him, he changed. He was no longer the weak disciple, but the tenacious new leader. Chuckles followed after, and those who were now on the floor took note of the change.

"Rise." A deep sinister voice commanded, which was done with obedience. "Good."

All men were in awe. Never before had they encountered such a frightening aura. Never before had they heard of a voice that was as dark as their previous God. They stared into those eyes. Those dark red orbs surrounded by a yellow hue, and all men shivered at once.

"Worshiper's of The Void… After an eternity away from Albion… Jack of Blades is **back**."

"No!" Sparrow jumped up from her make-shift bed, covered in a blanket of frigid sweat. She shuddered in the silence of the night, panting as well for fresh air. Her hands were clammy, and beads of sweat tickled her as she got up. An alarmed voice came in.

"Sparrow?" It was a deep familiar voice, one that belonged to Garth. She shivered, thankful that it was just a dream. The Will User could be heard as he ran down the stairs, and Sparrow realized… she had probably awoken him from his sleep.

Her face was a deep scarlet color now.

"I'm fine." The heroine answered before the question could be asked. She shivered uncontrollably as she clutched her clothes tightly for warmth. Just a bad dream, that's all it was. Just a nightmare, it wasn't real. She spotted Garth's figure come into view from the staircase, and she slouched. Gahhhh, she woke him up… "I'm sorry, I'm just fine."

"What was it?"

"Just a dream…"

"Sounded like a nightmare." Garth said, a candle in one hand, though in Sparrow's mind, he didn't really need that candle. His Will flourished on his skin, in his veins. She only nodded to him, not wanting to open her mouth.

Little did she notice that she was glistening with sweat all over. The candle light made that obvious, so he came closer.

Sparrow noticed that he wasn't exactly wearing nightwear. He was in the clothes he wore daily, and she wanted to enquire this… Then she felt a sudden hand placed upon her forehead. A callous, but cooling, hand. She looked at him in question.

"I'm sorry for waking you—"

"I wasn't sleeping in the first place." He stated. Her brow was raised and she figured he must've been toiling on some Old Kingdom artifact again… That explains his wardrobe. Though, she would've liked to see if he wore pajama pants of some kind to bed or not. She opened her mouth to ask, but it was answered. "I've been looking into what you've been reading up on, but it seems the only way it can be done is if a priest of some kind cleanses it through some sort of ritual."

"Mm…" She said, sounding tired. Should've known. "That's just fantastic."

"The only 'Holy' priests are in—"

"Oakfield. I know…" Sparrow said, taking a trembling breath in and sighed. They both grew silent as Garth stared at her. Not in a "romantic" stare as some of you may think, nay. He was staring her down, analyzing her like she was a stranger. What was there to doubt about Sparrow…?

"You found the mask in Snowspire… and it's possessed?" Sparrow nodded, and she realized, something about that must've made her seem crazy. She didn't want to seem crazy… not to anyone. Sparrow had the bright idea to change the subject.

"Reaver has been chasing me for it, looking for me. I guess he'll be coming around here soon, looking for me… You'll be in a lot of danger if he finds out you're helping me."

"I've been in worse situations before, believe me." He said in a reassuring voice, walking over to the door that viewed the Culis Gate Sparrow used to come here. He assumed that she discharged the connection between his Culis Gate and the one in Wraithmarsh, but seeing as how Reaver is hunting her down, he thought it appropriate. He could always fix it. Hell, he made it with his own hands. Sparrow stared at him, just staring with an absent mind. "I'll deal with him myself for a reliable friend."

Sparrow's eyebrows raised in surprise. Well… she thought Garth only imagined her as a… a… passing associate. Now she knew it wasn't so. She slowly smiled, feeling her nervousness begin to fade. What a nice thing to say… That's all she could think as she grabbed the blankets.

"_How interesting… but you forgot something."_

"Lucien never found a better way to resurrect his family, did he?" She waited for some sort of reaction… but Garth didn't say a word. Her stomach gave her a false sense of illness as everything became sickeningly quiet. There was Jack's faint chuckle as Garth turned to walk up the stairs to his study. Sparrow felt… so embarrassed.

Gah, she ruined the moment… but was it really so bad? To want ones family back? Or was it really so bad to even speak of something like that… Ugh, Sparrow felt heat overwhelm her as she lay on her bed, trying to go to sleep.

"_Reliable friend…"_ Jack repeated. _"Ha! I was wrong about you. You are a greedy little soul…"_

"No, I'm not." Sparrow said, covering her ears. She needed sleep. Whenever she saw her reflection, there were dark circles under her eyes. "I've done nothing but give, so don't call me greedy."

"_True… if that's the case, don't you think you deserve more than a statue…?"_

… Now how did he know about that statue? She didn't tell him everything in her sleep, did she? Or did he hear it from Reaver? Oh, so Reaver knew… but maybe that says something. Sparrow abruptly sat up, looking at the mask sown onto her shoulder.

"Reaver, tell me where he is."

"_He's done more than narrow down his search, I'll tell you that…"_ How? _"Your damsel in distress of sorts is a very reasonable girl when it comes to gold."_ That girl she saved… She ratted he out? For a price, it sounds like… _"He's getting close, but do not worry. He'll be stopping for a 'meeting' as you could say…"_

Sparrow felt even sicker as she heard this. What if she woke up to the sound of cannon balls firing? It made her shake, and her sleepiness subsided.

"_Hush, little Sparrow. I'll tell you when you should be worried…"_ Jack stated promptly… though she didn't know why he'd say something like that. Sparrow wasn't an idiot. She knew not to trust everything the wolf says. Jack could dress in sheep's clothing as much as he'd like, but she knew better.


	18. Chapter 18

**Well, sorry for the no-update in a while. The 9-weeks has ended, and now it's to the FINAL last weeks of school, so I'm kind of free of work for now. I also was in a bind from this story. You know, I really like this. I had to stop, though. I mean, I was getting so worn out… Could you tell? XD Anyway, here is it. **

**PS - I had to write something that was out of the fable story, so if you hadn't checked into it, go read my Kingdom Hearts one shots. I'm going to be putting an Axel one shot up soon, but I have a Riku one shot, and Demyx one shot that hold two chapters. If you want a happy ending, don't read the second chapter. XD**

Today will soon be gone.

Sparrow held her knees tightly against her chest as she stared down at the concrete floor below her. Mentioning a way to revive loved ones have set off the repressed memories she had tried to forget during her time of grieving. She still remembered the night that of their honey moon, when they had shed there clothing as if it were a burden to their bodies. She remembered very clearly what happened under the covers, which nine months later brought a new child into the world.

They made plans to grow old, and she'd tell him stories about her adventures and her primary quest that involved her going to the Tattered Spire. That was mentioned the morning after, of course. But she remembered so clearly, as her husband placed a hand on her stomach… He said specifically, "I would die for you."

Now, Sparrow placed her hand on her stomach, imagining his hand where he placed it. Was she supposed to be happy when all she ever wanted came with a price? He said he would die for her…

"You must… live for me, too."

"… I'm sorry?" Sparrow snapped her head up, alarmed. She had forgotten all about Garth's presence. She managed to forget everything presently happening, the smell of the soup he was cooking, the glow of the fireplace that lit the room and even her very own existence. She heard a faint chuckle, but not a chuckle from Garth. Her face became red.

"I'm sorry, I was talking to myself." She said shyly.

Looking at her hand, she remembered something that stuck with her since childhood. With her palm faced towards her, she saw faint little weak lines of Will, but it wasn't that she was focusing on. She forget who taught her this… Sparrow believed it was her mother who introduced this, but the pinky finger of the hand stood for stranger. The finger next to it stood for worker, the next for friend, then lover… but she forgot what the thumb was suppose to be… Maybe she did it wrong… Did the next finger stand for mother?

Nonetheless, she became calm and acknowledged Garth, who was still looking at her oddly with his monocle. His brow was arched elegantly and his stare sparkled from the reflection of the fireplace, showing off his curiosity.

"You miss your family very much, don't you?" He sighed, looking back to the large pot that boiled over the flames. How can he—oh—that's right. Sparrow sighed. _'Me and my big mouth.'_ She felt a little embarrassed that he heard her. "It's a shame that it had to happen. If I knew, I would've stopped him."

"Déjà vu." She said quietly, making Garth turn his gaze away in thought. "I suppose you've lost someone important as well?" It seems like that's all that has happened lately, until Lucien's death, of course. So it really technically hasn't happened lately…

He answered her with silence.

That's what she thought. Slouching, she ignored all other thought of Garth and his possible family, not wanting to really give it much thought. He would tell her if he wanted to, but it's not like she really cared. He didn't matter at the moment… Currently, Sparrow was at the top of a hit list, and that means she could only look out for number one. Even though Garth's very existence was only a myth to some, she paid no mind… until…

"I never got the chance to see my mother, or any other probable family member." Sparrow stared at him as he looked into the fire. "So I cannot say that I have lost family members, but I can only assume they have died a natural death—"

"That's what you hope they died of, isn't it?" She interrupted, before they met each other's eyes. Sparrow realized how rude it must've been to speak out. "I'm sorry… Continue."

"I don't know if I was abandoned or survived something horrible. All I know is that I am here now, and that's all that matter."

… Very interesting way to move on… Live for the here and now, instead of grieve for the past and what could've been. Sparrow nodded, looking back down. Garth must have grieved non-stop in his loneliness. Lucien must've cried too, but Sparrow was not aware of as to what caused him to be considered a maniac… though, she was beginning to believe he wasn't the biggest nemesis Sparrow faced.

"My sister and I lived on a farm with our parents. My mother and father left to go into Bowerstone Market, and they never came back…" She fell silent as she stared at Garth's shoes, finding them easy to focus on. "I remember the day that the guards came to seize the property. We didn't completely understand why—well—actually, I had a feeling that something happened… but I denied it. I could only assume a balverine got to them during travel, or bandits, but I didn't want to believe it…"

Although Sparrow stared at Garth's shoes in thought, she wasn't completely saddened. She was just feeling apathy. Sighing, she continued.

"We took shelter in Bowerstone Old Town, and even though I was sad, I wasn't alone… We got lucky now and then, even found people to live with in the harsh winters… but the day Theresa came and persuaded us into buying that silly little trinket…" Sparrow's hands suddenly became fists. "It's Theresa's fault… She talked Lucien into believing The Spire and it's powers to grant wishes. She was the mastermind, Garth. I swear, some day…"

"Sparrow…" Garth interrupted her, making Sparrow look up at Garth in question. "Believe me when I say I'm sorry, but it's best to leave what happens to the next generation."

"What do you mean?"

"The Spire, it is unable to grant any more wishes for another long while. There is nothing Theresa can do with it now, but I predict that when she does use it, you and I both will not be among this world." Sparrow stared at him, his logic being registered into her mind. Yes, that made sense… still. "I will admit that I feel sorry for your losses, though… If there was anything I could've done to prevent it…"

"I know, but it can't be helped now… All that matters is that I'm still here, and you're here as well." That sounded… a little strange. "I mean, if the both of us are still alive and well, that's all that matters…"

Sparrow went silent as she stared at Garth. He knew so much; He could do so much compared to the heroine. It was so strange suddenly, because since she's been around him, she felt thrown into a daze—she felt herself forced into a stupor—into oblivion. As though he stupefied her—as though he dulled her senses—as though he made her feel stupid…

Yes, she felt stupid being here. That was her conclusion. Garth tossed all over her ideas out of the window, and she slouched, bringing up her knees to hug tightly to her chest. Why did he have to be correct all the time she thought selfishly?

"That's true, but I could stop her before she has the chance to use it."

"You don't even know what she's using it for…" True indeed, but still, Sparrow had inkling. She sensed there was something in the air, but she would leave it be for now… There was nothing either of them could do. Garth really knew how to make someone feel like a dimwit.

"Right." Sparrow said, suddenly standing up and beginning to pack up her things. She at least knew something that Garth didn't. "Best leave before Reaver sniffs me out."

"But he is not aware of my tower in Brightwood." Sparrow cringed, hoping that Jack the mask didn't hear that. She hurrily packed up her things now.

"He knows now, believe me." She felt heat attack her neck, and various other places. "It's best you leave as well. I don't want to give Reaver the opportunity of shooting you down." It seemed like anyone she associated with was some how murdered in some way. She didn't want Garth to be slain… he doesn't deserve it at all.

"You may be right… Although I highly doubt his bullets can amount to anything like my Will…" Garth gave a brief look to the soup that was being cooked over the fire, and he calmly looked back to Sparrow. "If that is so, I will go with you."

"You don't even know where…" Oakfield of course. "… Right, okay. Just… Just don't…"

"I won't be of any nuisance." He said calmly, making Sparrow feel as if she didn't even need to bother speaking. She hoisted her bag of items on, and watched as Garth walked up the stair in a quick manner. Garth… Traveling companion and expert Will user. Well, maybe he could teach her a thing or two on their way there.

_(Alright. I'm altering the point of view to limited now.)_

He came back down with scrolls and potions now on his person. Sparrow waited at the door patiently, looking at the fire intensely to collect her thoughts. She didn't notice he came down the stairs until he actually tapped her shoulder.

She looked at him, and he raised his eyebrow at the sight of something in her eye. She wasn't crying, she wasn't angry… Garth tried to define what he was looking at, but failed for Sparrow had turned her back on him and began to walk through the path that lead out of Garth's property.

He turned to the fire and put it out with a sudden gust of wind he had created. Garth was still miffed by that look in Sparrow's blue eyes. She probably wasn't one to speak about what was on her mind.

Well, they had plenty of time to talk. So long as they were together, Sparrow and Garth would open up to one another… eventually. Strangely enough, she was opening up sooner then he thought she would.

They just passed a flat stub. It was where statues of people would go. If you went to get yourself a sculpture, then this is where it would be placed. Of course, Sparrow's statue was not there. He had to ask why. Any person of fame and glory would do it.

"Why haven't you ordered your statue to be erected here?"

"It would've been wrong and inappropriate." How thoughtful of her. "I was tempted to buy your property, but I didn't. It's not suitable for me anyway…" She trailed off, and I nodded, even though she did not look back to acknowledge me while talking.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't take it while you had the chance. I've put a lot of work into that tower."

"I'll admit, while being there, I could help but wonder if you would be insulted that I intruded…"

"Well, I can understand the reasons. I'm sure you would do the same for me, had I needed a place to stay." Garth heard only a hum of agreement. He was pleased to finally find out where they stood among the lines of "friends". Though, he still had his doubts about her… The ancient Greek definition would explain why he has suspicions, and why Garth tries to avoid the title of, "Hero".

"I don't really have a home anymore, though…"

"May I enquire why?"

"I stayed away longer than I should have… I don't regret it, though. It wasn't the house I really wanted. I only bought it because it was near the house my sister and I used." Garth nodded at this, knowing of her sister, but refused to apologize. He already did twice before.

"What home are you looking for?"

"One like the farm I grew up on… If it's possible, I want to buy the one my parents owned. Maybe settle down and have children, but then again… If I do that…"

There was a long dragged out pause, and Garth was for once ill of knowledge. He was curious. What was keeping her?

"Sparrow?"

"That's right… Lucien had taken you and the other two before he explained." Garth's ears perked at the mentioning of his… former acquaintance. Sparrow stopped at what looked to be a makeshift grave with a dog collar placed near it. "He announced he had killed my husband and child, and that their blood had stained the walls of my home. Just before that, he shot my furry companion." She paused and gave a short laugh.

"Then he shot me, and I really did die... Only for a short time, of course."

Garth fell silent, motionless from inner shock. That must've been… traumatic for her. He knew she was suffering from _something_, he just didn't know it was this… He had no idea… Had he heard earlier…

Garth was the last to know.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**Hello and goodbye again. Glad to see I still have someone, even after the big wait on chapter 18. I'm going to try to make this chapter extra long, for the sake of having TOO MANY chapters. I always try to commit to reading a story, but usually I start reading when the author already has like, dozens of chapters left. Then I kinda **_**don't**_** want to read it then.**

**Not much else to say but I'm a little disappointed in myself for the length of this. I kind of hoped that I had ended the story by the time I got to chapter 20, but I looks like we're not even at the half way mark, so I hope no one minds it. Without delay, I'll stop jabbering and write.**

The walk to Bowerstone Market was short, but they didn't stop there. Garth decided to briefly stopped by the Alchemy shop, and then headed to the bookstore. All the while, Sparrow was off in her own little world, accompanied only by her thoughts.

Garth was still at a loss of words since their last conversation, though. He couldn't help but wonder if she was all right. He knew very well that she was still grieving… but was she okay? He didn't want to get too concerned. For some reason, he didn't intend to comfort her the entire time, not that she was asking to be. Of course he wanted to be her friend, but he didn't want to re-open the wounds she was trying to fix. Then, he supposed he should be careful.

Someone who has been through those kinds of losses usually become brittle and stale over time.

Garth had made a small purchase at the shops, and was soon standing in front of the tower, looking around with an elegant white brow raised in question. Sparrow didn't exactly say that she would wait, nor did she say where he could find her… but then it came to him. He knew where she was. He knew very well where she was.

He walked by various people who didn't seem to really acknowledge him. He walked to Bowerstone Old Town, tempted to find that exact home where she once lived before, but knew it best to stay away.

Garth had read into a lot of things, and experienced many things first hand. He knew what Sparrow was feeling and what she would feel later. Then again, he hated how she was letting it take her over. Everyone experiences heartbreaks, and when you get so close to someone… you get attached. When it all ends, it feels like that relationship was the most important. Everyone goes through it…

Well, almost everyone.

Garth couldn't help but find what Sparrow was going through to be slightly pathetic… Maybe if he were in her shoes, his view would change, but regardless. Surely, Sparrow would try to help him had he gone through such hardships. Maybe he should be more supporting. Then again, he wasn't really that close to anyone.

Sudden realization. He has never grown attached to anyone. Lucien was the closest thing to a "coworker" or "companion". He supposed… Sparrow was the closest thing to a friend he ever had.

Garth's expression shifted in concentration as he thought over these things and the situations. She had helped him, of course. It took ten years out of both of their lives, but they helped each other escape the Spire. He had heard of her courage and the things she had been through on her own. Though stupid, he supposed it was also selfless and generous. She denied the Commandant's every order… It cost her so much. He couldn't imagine going through it himself… He couldn't help but think, what was she thinking? More so, what else was there he should know?

He walked down stone steps and found himself walking by barred fences.

He felt the air around him becoming thick with the threat of rain. He could feel moist oxygen on his fingertips. He felt a low rumble as he continued to walk, finding himself looking at the names of strangers, written down on stones. The soil below the ground was filled with those who left this world. Children, men and women. Some were together; some died alone, loved ones left behind.

He soon came to an end to the path he had walked. He found Sparrow, the amazing Heroine who saved all of Albion, crouched and hunched over to say her few words to the stones that said the name of her child and husband. Garth could feel the pain, radiating off of her, and it engorged him, taking him like a strong tide on a seashore, like those at his home.

She stood and to turned to Garth, looking at him, but there wasn't as much pain in her eyes than before.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to have you come all the way out here…"

"No, it's alright." He wanted to see it for himself, actually. Sparrow loved her family a lot… She was lucky to had a family, even though…

"Are you ready?" She asked.

"Only if you are."

Garth himself was a scholar, yes. He was a true "renaissance man" and knew it. The sand thing was, he didn't know a thing about _his family_. He didn't have a mother, or father. He owned no emotions for any woman who was fond of Garth; he had no child of love. He was fruitless emotionally, but he was a walking source of information.

Silently, he wondered what it was like to have a lover, to have been loved at least once.

He had read stories, things that had happened between a man and woman. Silly things, some things like a man rescues a fair maiden from a raging dragon, and fatal things that told a tale of a love that could never be; Romeo and Juliet.

Garth has only read of such romances, he has dreamed of something actually, though he'd never speak of it.

Sparrow had walked by Garth, though he turned to look and stare at the two graves. His bright blue eyes stared down at the two bouquets of flowers, settled down on the stones. Poor thing, he could only think. Poor thing…

He followed Sparrow through the cemetery, and soon with time, they were out of town again.

They were quiet, the both of them. He couldn't help but think… why? Why put up the cold front, why separate yourself, why isolate when there are very many other people in the world that could make things so much better?

He had to snap out of those thoughts. Sparrow's life wasn't something to pry into, and he had to treat her like any other person… She wasn't any different from anyone else. Everyone had a story to tell.

"You know, I think I'm getting over it…"

"Really?" Garth said, not sounding all that surprised, but intrigued nonetheless.

"It's better to have had love then never to have loved at all. Right?"

"Right…"

Garth didn't realize it right away, but soon he would see how just having that conversation changed the situation.

Of course, Garth never lost a loved one. He never had one to begin with, so how would he know? There was something wrong with that, because even monsters like Theresa and Lucien once had love… Right? Maybe nice guys finished last, maybe they never really get the desired love that they so violently fought for in the first place.

Yes, he wouldn't realize it yet, but he was the weak one in the situation. He was strong in body and mind, but not in heart. He'll come to discover this very soon.

They left Bowerstone, neither of them looking back at the town.

They were walking the road to Rookridge now, and though it was getting dark, the idea of settling down at the tavern wasn't brought up. Maybe the both of them could keep walking after nightfall, but once they crossed the bridge, Sparrows walking slowed to a stop.

Garth raised his elegant questioning eyebrow once again.

"That's the shadow temple." Sparrow's gentle voice came, a little ragged. He could hear a cough strangling in the young heroine's throat. By her side, he looked to her face, which was hidden by the shadows given by her blood red hood. He could tell she was staring at the large temple, once a sanctuary, now a home for vermin and demons.

"It is."

He witnessed her shudder from his confirmation, and she turned away from him, looking at the large building that housed drifters and travelers.

"Lets go here." He followed, knowing that he'd get the chance to question her when they were alone.

He couldn't help but feel something. It was like the vibe you get when you're speaking to someone who you know you're not on good terms with. This wasn't an awkward sensation, though. This was an uneven—strange—_foreign_ feeling. They entered the building and that's where they both stopped.

"You should go upstairs. Get some rest." Garth suggested. An instant reply came.

"No, you should. I'll be resting as soon as I talk to the pub owner…"

"… About the Shadow Temple?" Garth finished her words, and he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Go sleep, I insist. You're not looking all that well for conversation." She doesn't look well enough to reject it, but she sighed lightly before nodding. Garth's hand was left behind as Sparrow took her leave, walking upstairs to where the vacant bedrooms waited for an occupant, any occupant at all.

Garth was soon at sitting in front of the bartender with intentions of asking about the temple not too far from where they were now. Of course, he didn't see why it was such a big deal, but then again, it was for Sparrow's own comfort.

"Excuse me." Garth said, cashing the inn owner's attention.

"Would you like a pint?"

"No." Garth shook his head. "I don't drink… I just couldn't help but ask if you knew anything about the area. As in, anything a traveler should be concerned about…"

"Oh, no. Not at all." He said without hesitation. "Bandits are under control, the Shadow Temple are behaving—… Well… Hmm…"

"They're not acting up, are they?" Garth asked with interest.

"Well, see, the other night something happened. We're not quiet sure what, but since then, the Shadow Temple's lights glow a brighter color of red." The bartender looked to the barmaid who had settled an empty pint down with a nervous expression. She looked out the door, to the ruins of the temple far in the distance. "It's not like it's nothin' we can't handle, though. Good thing Sparrow beat their God to a pulp, too, or else Oakfield would be look'n like Wraithmarsh…"

"Right, right…" Garth murmured before getting up and walking up the stairs without further question. Nothing more to ask them. They did not know more then anyone else's…

Peeking into a room, he spotted Sparrow with her hood down, no longer covering her hair. He remembered that it was once a bright blonde color. Did it always used to be a light brown color? Then he looked to the item she held in her hands. She seemed to be…

"What's going on, Jack?"

… Speaking to it.

"I don't like being kept in the dark. I know you're up to something."

"_It's not me who's up to something… It's everyone around you."_

It was talking back?!

Garth moved away from the doorframe to hide while he listened. Well, in all honesty, he really did believe Sparrow was going a little crazy… but now. Maybe he shouldn't have judged her so quickly.

"Keep going." Sparrow said, not realizing Garth's existence.

"_Everyone around you is scheming, planning against you. Even your traveling friend, Garth? He has intentions for his own that you would frown upon." _Garth seemed to be raising his brow a lot lately… _"It won't be long before you're pinned in your own cage, little bird."_

"Shut up… Don't try to confuse me. Garth is a very dear friend of mine. Whatever his intentions may be, they're nothing of the sort you're trying to make them out to be." Garth nodded in a silent agreement with Sparrow. He was not like Reaver. He was a supportive person, and saw himself as helpful. He solved problems, and he would never cause them.

"He has clouded intentions that even he is not aware of…"

"You're not Theresa, you can't talk like that…"

"… _Wasn't it she who made you lose everything?" _There was a long pause, and Sparrow's head lowered, her eyes now hidden behind her locks of hair. Garth watched intensely as diamonds poured from her eyes. There was a cruel low chuckle from the mask. _"I know something you don't know…"_ Is said, as if it were some sort of song.

Garth refused to listen to anymore, not while Sparrow suffered from the struggle to keep her expression solid. He walked into the room with a lot of easy casualness. Sparrow's eyes jumped up to Garth and she instantly placed her mask to her side, as if it were nothing.

"Oh, um… What did the owner say?" She said, instantly drying her own cheeks.

"Something happened last night at The Temple of Shadows. No one knows what exactly, but…" Sparrow sighed and looked down, rubbing her temples in thought. Then a sudden thought came to mind.

"Give me the mask."

"What?" Sparrow asked, looking at Garth with red eyes, tired from the stress. She needed it; it was making the bags beneath her eyes worse. He wouldn't stand on the sidelines while Sparrow battled against the blasted abomination known as a mask. He couldn't do that, not while it was happening to his dear friend. They were friends. She said it herself, and friends care for one another.

"Give me the mask, Sparrow. Please, for your own sake." Garth held out his hand and soon, Sparrow picked up the ancient authentic mask in thought. She was hesitating, but he knew it was for the best. He didn't care how attached she was getting to it, he'd take it away from her, by force if need be.

Delicate hands placed the mask in his hand facedown, and she looked at him with doubt.

"Have I given you a reason to doubt me before?"

She blushed softly and looked down at the floor, as to which he smiled confidently. She was going to be just fine. Garth could tell, and how often is Garth wrong… Right?

"Good night, Sparrow…"

"… Garth?" She said, suddenly appearing alert and unsure.

"What? Is the Heroine of Albion afraid of the dark?" He _was_ teasing her, but it was for her own good. For the sake of her gaining confidence in herself, she'd protect herself, even if Garth were to look away from her for a night. He remembered her as an independent woman for the most part, and he knew very well she was still independent. She just needed to be alone, without a troublesome possessed object tormenting her in her sleep.

He just prayed that she was still as pure as ever. It would be a shame to see her become corrupt just because of this Jack being… Hmm… he read a book once before about someone named Jack…


	20. Chapter 20

Okay, just seven weeks or so left of school… AND WE GOT OUR FIRST SNOW DAY!?

**Well, I'm happy that we have a snow day on Friday. We didn't think the blizzard would hit us that hard, but here I am, sitting in my chair wearing my pajamas and staring out my window. It's bad, I don't even know how long I'll have power, or if it will even go out, but it's really bad. I can't see the end of my block. XD I like it, though. No school, no homework, just a lot of free time and nowhere to go, nothing to do. (Expect stay inside and play Fable II on my 360, which is what I've been doing since chapter 19.)**

**Yeah, just downloaded Knothole Island, and drank the sex-changing potion. Now my fem-Sparrow is a dude. XD That reminds me, look out for a Reaver One Shot. It will be uploaded after this chapter.**

Chapter Twenty

For The Widows in Paradise

Sparrow was having a nightmare, Garth could tell. Though it was quiet, he could recognize it. He had witnessed her sleep, and most of the time she would not awaken peacefully. Though she was quietly gasping in the other room, Garth himself was not beneath the blankets of the bed he was renting for the night. He was reading books and trying to block out her. Trying to ignore Sparrow's soft whimpers. Everything was so quiet that he could almost hear her shift in her sleep, and he imagined she was twisting herself into blankets. A part of him… almost… _almost_ wanted to go into her room and quiet her down, for both of their sakes, but Garth knew. Garth knew it was best for Sparrow to sweat out this fever on her own…

She'd do the same as him, surely.

A sudden voice pricked his ears, though. A different voice, one dark and hushed voice that was apart from Sparrow's own. It wasn't coming from her room, which was on the other side of the wall. He was curious, yes… He did briefly look up from the book he was reading and just stared at the wall. The only thing that separated their rooms, that wall…

He shook his head in disbelief and continued to block out all sounds, making everything in reality a white noise in the background as he fed upon the words on ancient paper… A chill suddenly ran up his spine as he heard the second voice again.

"Wear… me…"

Garth's odd eyes instantly looked over to the mask. Though it had no face of flesh, he almost believed it was smiling from the corner of the room. He did not touch it since Sparrow handed it over.

Sneering, he removed his monocle and glared at the mask. Though he could put a pillow over that abomination of a mask, he very much so doubted that it would muffle the voice. Garth would think it spoke through minds, but that's doubtful. He was just eavesdropping on the conversation earlier… He didn't know what he was going to do about this mask… Jack.

Jack… Jack… Where had he heard of that before? He didn't believe in too much of what he's read before, but he vaguely remembered that name. Jack… Jack…

"_Curious?"_ It asked, but Garth refused to answer it. He didn't want to encourage it further. _"Wear me and all will be yours. Knowledge beyond anything, knowledge of everything… you do desire knowledge, don't you?"_

Apparently not all that much now that it mentioned the subject.

Whatever Garth desired, he knew that siding with this possessed… thing wasn't going to bring him any closer to any goals at all. He couldn't underestimate this, though. Nor could he be naïve… but he didn't exactly want to interact with it.

"_I know what you want… You can't hide from me."_

He was almost frightened. Almost.

"I have questions."

"_I have answers."_

Garth walked over and picked up the mask, his dark skin prickling as he tried to ignore the haunting feeling of dread enveloping him. He wouldn't be intimidated, not by an object that had no body. That's when he heard a grunt from Sparrow, and realized that if he could listen into her conversations, she could do the same. Can't have that…

He walked outside to the back and walked down the staircase, ignoring his surroundings with the thought that nothing could harm him, not while he held this mask. It was strange… Just from the touch he felt some sort of demonic horrid power.

"How did you come to be?"

"Thankfully for my fair lady, I came to exist to only serve her needs and desires…"

"Who is this woman you speak of?"

"Now, now. Don't get greedy. What good would a surprise be if you knew about it?"

"I don't like surprises."

They walked further, down stairs and up paths long deserted by those who would mine and work all day here. Garth persisted, determined to find something out. Anything, any information at all, would be useful.

"Jack…" This question was going to sound odd. "How long have you been among us?"

"_Since Sparrow decided to take me as a souvenir from Snowspire."_

"That's not…" He sighed, being interrupted by a shot laugh.

"_I've been around much longer then any ancient ruin. I've wreaked havoc and caused chaos, lead bandits and raids, killed young innocents and wise elders. You know, you remind me of a Will User… He was loyal to the end, I must say, but very weak at heart. His power was beyond yours, and compared to me he was nothing but a fly…"_

"You're getting off the subject…"

"_I am Jack of Blades."_ Sudden chills as Garth stopped in his tracks, staring at the mask in terror. _"That room in the high tower of yours, that bed holds only a small amount of what I can do…"_

"How do you—"

"_Oh, Sparrow's done more then just look into your notes, __**Garth**__."_ The mask spat. _"Though she didn't sleep in it, believing it was your bed… I believe she would've made it out with all limbs attached, of course."_

"You've been tormenting Sparrow far too long… I don't understand, what do you expect to get out of this torture you bring her?"

"_A body of my own. I'm actually very glad I met the hero. The blood runs in her veins, just like before. Only this time, I'll get back what was rightfully mine in the first place."_

Jack of Blades… He was holding the mask of Jack of Blades, the being its self. Garth attempted to crack the mask in half with bare strength alone, but it did not work. He only heard Jack's quiet cackling as Garth gritted his teeth, forehead slick with sweat. Damn, damn… This was too disturbing for him to handle, he didn't want to accept it… Ignoring his attempts to break Jack, Garth asked more questions.

"How did the fall of the Guild occur?"

"_Well… That's a secret I can't tell you."_ Came a coy reply. _"I will say, though, I did have __**something**__ to do with it… I just can't recall."_ That was a flat out lie. Garth felt sickness in his stomach.

"… Are you apart of the Shadow Court?"

"_Ahh, now you're putting the pieces together. Quick to catch on, just like Maze…"_

"Who?" He asked, before shaking his head quickly. "No, wait, then you have something to do with what's been going on at the Shadow Temple."

"_You know, the worshipers at the Shadow Temple are so weak-minded, only interested in fun, games and money… You know, they're not in the desired shape I wish them to be in… but maybe I have something to do with that, too."_

"They're nothing Sparrow and I can't handle."

"_I know, which is why I've new friends."_

"Who are they?!"

"_I'm not telling."_ It laughed. _"But I will say, they have a society of their own, although Sparrow came in and killed the brains of the organization… They're looking for revenge, of course."_

Garth had a feeling that he knew what Jack had done… He sent some group of men after her, ones that were skilled obviously. The Will User wasn't that worried, he knew she could fight, but lately she seemed to get weaker and weaker… As if she was witling away, like the leaves on a great tree during the fall, or the petals of a dandy lion after a strong gust. He looked back at the inn he had turned his back on to be alone, and realized that leaving Sparrow alone was not the best idea.

"You're going to try and kill her?"

"_Well, she has some things I need for her to do for me, but ultimately, yes."_

Garth turned and began to run for the building Sparrow slept in, paranoid by the thought that she may suffer a loss, that she may fall fatal while he was gone. She might not wake up in the morning, or ever again. He had to be sure; he had to make sure she would be okay.

"_Oh, it's not going to happen now… It will be when you least expect it, but answer this question. If you are to go against evil, and the only way to get rid of that evil is to commit the evil deed of vanquishing the evil."_ Garth bit his lip, not wanting to answer that. So Jack answered for him. _"In the end, you would be evil in return for taking the life of another. If you do not defeat evil, it stays the same. Either way, evil remains. Always."_ There was a malicious laugh following those words, and a chill attacked him…

"Shut up. Shut up, don't say that."

"_You can hide your secrets… but there will come a day you will have to make a choice."_

Footsteps hit the floor at such a fast pace, and before Garth could register it, there he was. He was staring at the sleeping figure of Albion's hero, Sparrow. Sparrow, who did not have a name, a family, a home or even a companion. Not anymore, no. He couldn't help but feel relieved and stressed at the same time.

Sparrow was still breathing, but he had to make sure. Walking closer, he delicately held his index finger beneath her nose and a cool breeze of wind made his shoulders drop. Thank God, she was still alive. Jack chuckled, but Garth ignored him. Garth couldn't help but think that… her life depended on him, in some aspects, some angles. He didn't care if her hair was blonde or black; he was fine with the mixed color. Her skin could be sun kissed, could be scarred and burned with memories… No, her skin was soft and pale, which was fine. He didn't need to look into her eyes to know what color they were. They were a solid blue color, a color that reminded him of the deep dark blues of the sea.

His heart was still, but only for a moment.

"_You're a fiend, gazing at a woman during her sleep."_

"Demon. You did the same, didn't you?" He asked softly, before leaving her room and sitting at a table, not daring to place his head on a pillow, for fear something would happen to her while he wasn't looking.

"_Thou shant gander at a fair maiden."_

"I'm not gendering…" Garth said stubbornly, determination burning in him now. If anything were to happen, he'd see it for himself and take care of the problem so she may sleep comfortably and unharmed. He'd do anything for Sparrow.


	21. Chapter 21

**Gaaaah, I'm so tiiiiired. Testings are over with, and now I just have to get over with my birthday before I can start looking forward to the end of school. Summer is going to be great, seriously. I can't wait…**

Chapter Twentyone

The Lines Between

It was the first snow of winter. Strange how days seem to pass by without notice, but right now, he had no concern towards the icy wind.

Sparrow had sat up in her bed, awake and well rested. She had a bad dream, but she was okay. That's all that mattered.

Sitting at a table, Garth himself seemed to be a statue. He refused to sleep while such conditions were being made. Rational action or not, Garth didn't want to risk the Hero of Albion's life, because if Albion were to discover their great hero had fallen into death's strong grip, then the vacancy of security would be filled with fear and panic.

Then again, maybe she could cheat death one last time… Hell, who lives after being shot twice at point blank range?

A tingle and shiver ran through Garth when he watched Sparrow awake from her sleep. He had watched her stir in her sleep and whimper at times, he watched her fall to sleep before and he watched her open her eyes to the morning… Why did he suddenly have a tremor of chills run to and fro?

"Good, you're awake."

Sparrow's blue eyes went to Garth, not expecting him to be waiting for her. She glanced to Jack of Blades' mask briefly before looking at Garth once more. He felt the hair on his neck stand on end, like when he casts off lightening and his body becomes smothered with static, only there was no lightening or static taking place…

"We've got to hurry to Oakfield. Threats have been stated and we can't jeopardize the situation."

"Garth…" Sparrow questioned softly. "… You look very tired."

"I know… Don't worry for me." He said to her, getting up from his chair and walking to the doorframe. Sparrow had gotten up and a strange feeling came over Garth. He couldn't define it.

"The mask." She said, and his hand dropped to the object and he held it tightly. "You're not going to give it back, are you?"

He wasn't sure if he wanted to give it back or not. It gave her nightmares, made her appear ill and sickly. He wondered if she had gotten shorter within the past few days. Not that she was really six feet tall, but regardless…

"Garth, are you alright?"

He snapped out of his thoughts.

"Yes, of course."

"… You didn't sleep at all, did you?"

_No, not while there is danger lurking around the river bend._ Garth's lips became stern and his gaze was solid. Sparrow's dull stare suddenly became hard and just as serious as Garth's. As if he did something to displease her.

"What were you doing all night, Garth!?" She shook her head suddenly, ignoring Garth's delayed reactions and she sighed. "I'm not going to try and persuade you into take a nap, because I know you wont, but I'll tell you that if you want to be prepared for what we're going to face—you should rest up—" Sparrow's lecture was cut short.

"I understand." Garth said abruptly.

Sparrow's glare became soft, not in an _admiring_ way though. She nodded and began to prepare for the travel to Oakfield today.

The rest from there seemed to be a slight haze to Garth. Things weren't as vivid, mostly because of the lack of sleep. He did not notice things that his senses presented to him. He noticed other things though. He did, however, jump at sudden things that came to his attention. He jumped the gun when he saw a bunny scamper out from under a bush.

Of course, the bunny got away before Garth could collect himself to actually _cast_ a lightening spell… (Seems to be his signature spell, ne?) Sparrow did take notice, much to Garth's disappointment.

"You know, I don't think I have a potion for what you have, but if you were well rested, maybe—…"

"Hero." He spoke to her with such soft words. She became quiet, only nodding with the idea that maybe she was irritating him.

Garth stared at the temple as they came to pass the large haunting structure. There was little else they could see other then the tall ruins that still stood, defiant against nature's erosion process. Garth expected a troll to come jumping out of the spiral stair case and run with unbelievable speed towards the girl he traveled with.

He expected it, but it did not happen… thankfully.

"Talk to me, Sparrow." He said after more walking. "I think I may just nod off if I continue on without saying another word…"

"Alright… What would you like to talk about?" She asked carelessly.

"Anything."

"Okay… Um…" Sparrow was silenced as she tried to summon a thought, any thought, from the depths of her mind.

"Before I came to Bowerstone, I told you I lived on a farm." Yes, that's right. She did live on a farm… Must've had many fields and some cattle, chicken and other things… "Do you remember your home? Before Albion?"

Well, he wasn't prepared for that question.

"I remember… I didn't have a home like yours but… I found someone who would let me stay without pay if I would stay and work with them." Wow, that was ages ago… He was surprised he could still remember.

"He was somewhat of a collector. He'd let me read books he found over his own lifetime. After a few years and some advances I made, I got here."

"Reasonable story." Sparrow replied, nodding. She seemed to have put some thought into Garth's past. Of course, he couldn't help but notice.

"You were expecting something else?"

"No, just couldn't help but wonder. Mind you, you're a myth to people here. I don't know what to expect from you half the time."

"Understandable explanation." Garth shot back at her, and she smiled. Garth didn't notice, but when he saw it, his tense shoulders suddenly dropped in a moment of relief. His relaxed state did not live long, his shoulders became tense not but a moment later.

She did not notice.

"Reaver." She said, and Garth's state of peace shattered into a miffed emotion.

"What of him?"

"Did you know… he's the reason Wraithmarsh is in the state it's in?"

"I gathered a portion of that information." Garth said carelessly. "Hammer and I were both there when Theresa stated Reaver's connection with The Shadow Court."

"Hn…" Sparrow did not voice what she was thinking, which made Garth curious sometimes.

"Why mention him?"

"I was just wondering what his childhood must've been like… He wasn't Reaver all the time. Reaver, the man he is now, doesn't have a family or hometown… I read some journal entries… but they don't give a name. I find it a little disappointing."

"I thought you said he was after you." The Will User said suddenly. "Why speak of him?"

"A lot of people are after me, Garth. I was just talking about him for the sake of you not falling face forward in the middle of a road."

"… We should've taken a carriage."

There was a drifting silence between them after Garth had spoke word of a different topic, changing the subject between the two of them. Sparrow would bring up Hammer, but right now…

Who knows what brought Sparrow to even utter these words.

"I don't think he really means us harm."

Garth abruptly stopped, making Sparrow turn at her traveling companion in question.

"Incase you have forgotten, he's a pirate. Someone like you is a princess in his eyes."

"What do you mean?" Sparrow asked naively. "He is only after us because of the mask…"

"No, he's after _you_. Compare yourself to those who live in Bloodstone. Those are the people Reaver uses to get what he needs and wants. He's not just interested in your body… Sparrow, he's a heartless monster. If he were to even touch you—"

"Garth." There was a dangerous tone in her voice. "I'm here for the good of Albion… What are you here for?"

The Will User found himself at a loss of words momentarily as the heroine waited for an answer. What was he here for? He seemed to have forgotten somewhere along the travel. Oh… Oh, the conversation last night made sense… but Garth dared not accept that thought.

"I'm beginning to question your purpose here." Sparrow explained. Moments of silence, and Garth's hand fell to the mask, holding it tightly as he cringed on the inside.

"I'm here so that innocent people don't get hurt."

"… Let's go then."


	22. Chapter 22

**Hello, all. Or anyone who is reading this… I'm sorry I've been away so long. Turns out that my Word program on my personal laptop is against letting me use it for the simple fact that I don't know the configuration key. How lame is that? That's my excuse… but I don't have one anymore, seeing as how the school provides me with a iBook that works just as good (I guess).**

**Here it is, the next chapter. It's been a long time, and I've finally managed to work more into my plot. You know, make this be connected with that, filled in the blank spots in my mind. I'm still kind of busy with my personal life, but I hope you enjoy this special little chapter.**

**His Name is Tom**

"I'm getting impatient." Hissed a dark woman. She had made herself comfortable in a very spacious chair that was recently placed beside a lever.

"We can't rush these things…"

Inside of the dark and dank temples of shadows, three figures filled the room with a blending of moods. Something glinted in the dim light. The torches provided just enough light to expose the polished shine of a pistol, and a pair of intense eyes. His heels clicked on the stone ground in frustration.

"They're just outside! Do you expect me to just stand here as my prize gets away?" Scoffed the pirate.

"You'll have your moment. Now isn't the time…"

"What do you mean? This is my moment! One shot to the Will User's head can solve this—"

"That's where you're wrong." The tall and cloaked figure stated, standing at the exit to the upper levels of the temple, as to keep the gunman from running up the spiral staircase. "You'll only make her unreasonably hostile. She's already untrusting as it is… If her bloodline is along the same I've met before, she'll be easily manipulated… Perhaps it will be easier than before."

"So, you do expect us to stay here and do nothing, yes?" Reaver glared towards the supposed leader. Of course, what kind of rich man takes second in command? Reaver abruptly stomped over with a strong stride and without warning, grabbed the slightly shorter man by his collar and raised him to eye level. "I do believe you've forgotten who I am…"

Before Reaver could say more, a swift hand clutched Reaver's gloved hand. The strength of his hand threatened to break every bone in Reaver's… The marksman was too much of a man to even wince, of course.

"I will make you crumble." His previous voice was horse and monotone, but now it had harsh cutting-edge words, and a low voice that burned with dominance.

Reaver fell silent.

"Surely, there is something we can do…" A feminine voice came into play. The woman sitting in the chair sat up straight, crossing her legs. "You're one from The Void, aren't you?"

Slowly, Reaver's eyes hosted great curiosity from just that mentioning. Though he didn't question anything further as the shorter being was placed back on his feet. The King of Thieves was beginning to wonder about where his superiors justifications and where his allegiance lie.

"Indeed I am…"

"We'll, you're aware of the fact that she doesn't trust any of us… Here's a thought. Perhaps we could—. . ."

_Interference_

"Sometimes, I worry about you." The girl blatantly stated, her blue dazzling eyes still very focused on the path they strolled on.

"Why do you say so?" The will user enquired upon turning a page. Sparrow glanced at him through the corner of her eye. Impressive… He can talk, read and walk at the same time.

"I say so for many reasons…"

"Reasons like…?" He trailed off for her to pick up and follow.

"Mainly because you know so much about everything around you… Yet there are those around you who know very little about you in general." Sparrow seemed somewhat drawn to what he was reading, curious as to what kind of books he enjoyed and why. As she loomed over his shoulder, he chuckled slightly and shut it abruptly, making her jump in her smooth stride.

"If you have any questions, feel free to ask." This, Sparrow noted, and hummed as she eyed him suspiciously.

"Alright… What did you do after you parted ways with Lucien?" Odd question, but she was curious. She was such a young girl then, and he was probably in his late teens or early twenties by then. Even so, it didn't seem to be something worth talking about…

"Why, I stewed in my tower for a few nights, continued my research on the Old Kingdom…" He stopped there, and right away, Sparrow lost her interest.

"What are your findings on the Old Kingdom?"

"Just silly trinkets… and books that were scarcely vague and useless." He was just reading one, actually… "Most of what I managed to salvage was thanks to stories I read from the Old Kingdom. Are you aware that Oakvale was the home of one of the greatest Hero's of our time?"

"Yeah, but I can't see _Reaver_ in that light…" Sparrow was abruptly cut off.

"Actually, there was a greater Hero before him… A dark character brought a bandit raid into Oakvale one evening, and burnt it to the ground. His family died, but he was saved from the fires and bandits and was brought into The Guild." Sparrow rolled his eyes as Garth rambled about. She didn't very much care for history or fairy tales.

"Next question." She said in a flat tone, making Garth smile. "Have you ever been with a woman?"

Quite interesting how smooth the transition could be. They went from the past to Garth's personal life… His "intimate business" so to speak. The dark man turned his head, his eyes darting off the book for the first time in many hours. His cheeks were hot, but because of his natural pigment, no blush formed.

"Hm? Garth?" She grinned, much like a chestier cat, observing this coy impression he gave her.

"Of course. I'm with one right now." He replied, giving Sparrow a brief glance, just in time to see her roll her eyes.

"Have you ever been _intimate_ with a woman, though?"

He cleared his throat at her correction and didn't appear to be any less disgruntled than he previously had been. Sparrow acknowledged his discomfort, but only found it humorous at his expense. She could be nice and just drop the subject, but she enjoyed how much he seemed to strain for an answer.

"Intimate with a woman…" Awkwardly, he tried putting his book into his "man-bag," which Sparrow was convinced it was, indeed, a purse. The man cleared his throat. "I've had previous encounter, you could say."

"Oh, please go into detail."

His speech faltered and he seemed to stall for an answer. He cleared his throat once… twice… and appeared to shuffle his belongings, as if he could fish it out of his little side bag. Chances were he never had been friendly with a woman. Garth made it obvious. Though, I had no idea he could've been a virgin...

"I don't want to go into it."

"Because you haven't actually had carnal relations with any women what so ever?"

"No, that's not it at all." He spoke up in his defense. I couldn't help but laugh at how oddly fickle he was with his answers. "I've had relations, but it's all in the past."

"So you are, would you say, celibate?" The will user seemed to scoff at the way she worded it.

"No, I had my fair share of contact with the feminine kind." He shouted, finding the heating of his facial region to be unbearable. His stomach lurched and he began to wonder where the point was in this conversation.

"I'm sure you have…"

"Please, lets just… drop the question." He said sullenly, finding the anxiety to build with tension. "Sparrow… were you always this nosy?"

"Maybe. So, Garth… You being such a ladies man…" He trailed off, watching him roll his eyes. "What was her name?"

"I thought we dropped this subject."

"Well, we did. This is a separate question." She proclaimed, smiling innocently. The devious gleam in her eyes outshined that precious smile of hers. He felt his intestines go into knots and loops. "She must have a name… You do remember it, don't you? Unless it's a one night stand." Sparrow leaned in, tilting her head to stay within Garth's eye sight.

"Which, there's nothing wrong with that." Garth was baffled that she'd say something like that… "I've had my own, if that helps."

He looked to her, astonished that she would really give in to something like that. He was curious… Was this before she met her husband? Or… No. Sparrow wasn't treacherous like that.

"Her name was Cinema." Garth's hand reached up to tug on his collar, wanting to lean away from Sparrow, but found himself comfortable with the narrow distance, oddly enough. "She was the daughter of the stable man in my village." Sparrow's eyes came to glitter. She could only imagine him and some other girl in the stable with the horses… Oh, Garth, you are the ladies man, aren't you?

"Did you two roll around in the hay?" She joked, before being given a icy glare from the will user. He didn't answer, and she didn't ask anymore questions.

After some time of silence between the two, Sparrow couldn't help but imagine seeing him in the 'romantic' sense. She wondered what kind of lover he was, what kind of smooth talker he was back in the day.

She tried to picture it… Garth's ivory skin, bare and glistening. Curious… did he have the blue veins then? Did he sport his blind eye? Did he woo her with his book humor? Then she lingered on the thought of his hair. Surely, with his youth, it must've been in tangles… or maybe it was thick and wild.

She tried putting herself in that situation, mentally of course. Trying to imagine herself with her back to hay, Garth above. Blush stained cheeks were painted on her face as, in real life, she walked in a daze. Garth's bulging muscles easily supporting his upper torso. The broad shoulders which would be grasped in desperation. His abdominals, which were seductive and sharp, seductive all on their own… His back—his _young_ back—working so hard…

"Sparrow." She thought of him saying her name… and then, she snapped, a sparse gasp being made as Sparrow realized just what she was doing. _Fantasizing!_ That's not what she intended to do! Damn cursed sparrow… Should know better than to… to think of Garth in such a way.

"Sparrow." The Heroine of Albion shook her head. Stop that, Sparrow!

"Sparrow!" He shouted, reaching out to firmly hold her shoulder. She whipped around to look at him, appearing to be thoroughly flushed with embarrassment… Oh, Garth.

She thanked the God's that he wasn't able to read minds.

"What is it?" She asked, still trying to trick herself out of her previous perverse thoughts that still somewhat occupied her. He looked at her oddly and shook his head.

"You were about to fall off the trail—" He shook his head. "Never mind, listen…"

They both fell silent and Sparrow blinked as she strained to listen to the silence of the evening. She looked around, realizing that they had entered a new area in their travels… Then her ears perked at the sound of screaming, followed by howling.

Someone was in danger.

Garth and Sparrow both darted forward with the same thought in mind. It was a race to the source of the blood-curdling scream. She hesitated in her rapid stride, completely aware of the time when Hammer and Sparrow traveled through this same area, coming to encounter that 'poor innocent woman' whose husband was killed and her son was taken by the balverines... Just the very thought of being fooled again with the same trick… It made her want to slaughter everything in my sight.

The vulgar thoughts of a youthful Garth were forgotten and left behind to bring up some other time. Running down a steep path, the two hero's parted through a thicket of shrubberies. There was a savage hairy creature that towered over a young boy just atop of a hill. Sparrow brought out her pistol and fired, making it howl.

The creature's back arched, it's silhouette from the moonlight sending shivers down Sparrow's spine. For some reason, just seeing those sharp teeth and dark blood-stained claws made her quiver within her boots. It was a fear she never could quite grasp fully and over come.

It whipped around to search for the root of its pain. Sparrow froze, absolutely terrified by the sight of it's eyes that glowed within the black outline. It ran down the hill, gaining speed from the steep hillside. It's masculine legs pushed off the ground, and it was soon leaping through the air, it's jaw unhinging to reveal it's jagged teeth.

Her ears perked and Garth readily pulled Sparrow in, holding her firmly before thrusting his unoccupied hand forward, lightening the color of a robin's eggs striking forth and stopping the blood-thirsty animal in it's tracks. It flew back and hit the ground rolling… A tree stopped its path and finally brought it to a motionless pause. It twitched occasionally, but Sparrow didn't bother to move. She was rooted to the spot. Immobile, like a statue. She could barely hear a thing… No, wait. She could hear the sadistic chuckling that the mask bore.

It was laughing at her…

"… Sparrow?" Garth enquired, making her jump within her skin. Her wide eyes looked to him, and she seemed to fidget uncontrollably, like the time she drank five java potions in a row. She replied with something incoherent and almost inaudible.

He stared at her, as if mystified. Why was he looking at her like that? What did she do?

Sparrow looked to the placement of her hands and her entire body, her hands pulling back when she realized that she had positioned them on his chest. Her face burned crimson when realizing how tight he was holding her. The both turned away from each other.

"Sorry." Garth came to say, before standing up and beginning to walk forward. Sparrow reached for her holster, remembering that she had fired at the beast. Her gun was on the ground… Ugh, she's gotten so clumsy. So much for being a skillful female gunner. Just one bullet and she loses her fire arm all in one motion. Pathetic…

The girl followed behind Garth, watching him walk up the hill. His figure was standing in such a perfect position. It was his silhouette that was something that made her stop and stare. Sparrow always fancied tasteful art… and a silhouette was one of many creative art pieces.

"He's hiding somewhere…"

"Who?" Sparrow asked briskly, hurriedly up the hill side to stand beside Garth.

"The boy…" Garth said, looking at Sparrow like she was sick. She blushed, embarrassed with herself. Of course, she thought. That's who they saved...

They could hear a faint whimper, and tilting her head after looking to a run down shack, she stopped just before the door frame. Sparrow crouched slightly, squinting to see through the darkness.

"No need to hide, little one." She spoke softly, her knees bending as she relaxed on the balls of her feet. Her hand extended out after seeing something shift among the shadows. "Come, now. You're safe…" Her heart went out to the terrified boy who coward alone…

Her motherly glow beckoned the small one, coaxing the boy into reaching out. Her warm smile brought his hand to touch hers, and she held him with assuredness.

She pulled him out into the bright moonlight and shook her head.

"Oh, you poor thing… You're sopping wet." She got down on her knees and began to wipe the dirt and soot off his pale cold cheeks. "What's your name?"

The boy leaned to one side slightly, spotting Garth who stood a good distance behind. The boy then looked to Sparrow with large pouting eyes.

"I'm Tom."

"I'm Sparrow." Her hand ran through his hand tenderly. "You're not hurt, are you, Tom?"

"My wrist… hurts a little."

Tom raised his right hand, wincing slightly as he did so. She examined it and tilted her head. Nothing visible, but if it hurts to move it, he clearly has a sprained wrist. She tilted her head, unsure of what to do to aid him…

"You're okay…" Sparrow stated, taking his other hand to hold for comfort. "Where are your parents?" His fearful pout changed to an expression of despair. This boy, he was young, but old enough to realize…

"They're gone…"

"Oh…" She replied, her heart aching at the sight of his doughy dark brown eyes leaking salty water. "Okay… well, know anyone? Like an aunt or uncle?" Sparrow asked, appearing happy. The boy shook his head no, and she sighed heavily.

He looked down at the ground, beginning to hiccup and cry.

"Shh… It's okay…" The woman reached out and held him against her, rubbing his back. "We'll take care of you…" At least until they can find a care taker. Sparrow had nothing against children… She loved them. It's just, having one in their company right now is something they can't focus their full attention on right now.

"Sparrow?" The little boy asked. She hummed in response. "Who is that tall dark man?"

She looked over her shoulder to Garth and smiled, a strange fondness evolving inside of her smile.

"Garth… He saved you." Both of the Hero's did, but she had to give him credit for saving her life. She stood up and held the boys hand. "You should thank him." She turned towards Garth, but the boy ended up clinging to her blood red cloak in attempt to hid. She laughed.

"Don't need to be shy…"

She advanced towards the man, dragging the squeamish boy against his will.

"Sparrow…" Garth came to say after keeping his look out. "We can't waste much more time… Have you found him?"

"I have." She looked down and tugged him slightly, making Tom peek over. He stepped back and remained hiding. "His entire family is dead… He doesn't have anywhere to go." After hearing her say that, Garth appeared to be a little troubled with the presence of the child.

"Do you think we can have him accompany us? Do you think he'll be safe from the… artifact?"

"There's no threat, Garth… We'll just go to Oakfield and see about finding him a home before we go see about the mask." The Heroine appeared to take a fondness to the young boy, and she didn't appear to like the idea of letting him off just anywhere during their travel. The young lady tilted her head and looked to Tom, giving him her sympathy.

"He'll be safe this way." She said in his defense. He knelt down, and Sparrow tugged him again, forcing him to look at Garth.

The child's curious eyes peered from behind Sparrow's cloak, watching the glowing dark male carefully. The boy seemed to sniffle and cough slightly, but Garth only quirked his brows. Garth leaned closely, reaching out a hand.

Within the palm of his hand, blue streaks of lightening sparked out and made an odd formation. As a rumble rippled out through the land, gently rain began to fall as what appeared to be a butterfly. It only fluttered about in his hand, captivating the boy's attention, if only for a moment. After batting it's wings, it soon dispersed… The boy's eyes shifted up, to Garth's single eye… The will user smiled and finally stood up.

"I suppose this gives us another reason to head to Oakfield…"

"Aye, it does."


End file.
